


The Lion and The Lotus

by WithPatienceComesPeace



Series: The Last Lotus [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Agarthan worldbuilding, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Courtroom Drama, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, Drama, Duscur (Fire Emblem), Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Family, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Spoilers, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Justice, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Mystery, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Protectiveness, Restoration of Duscur (Fire Emblem), Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, The Professor Moms Everyone, Tragedy of Duscur (Fire Emblem), Trials, We follow Blue Lions against Black Eagles Byleth, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithPatienceComesPeace/pseuds/WithPatienceComesPeace
Summary: The Prince of Faerghus unites with a mysterious Professor from Duscur to uncover the Truth about the Lambert Assassination.Starts serious, gets hilarious.Previews:Ch1: Seteth commands Shamir and Catherine to spy on the new professorCh3: Behold the Prince of FaerghusCh6: Fear the Deer: Enter Claude and Hilda!Excerpt:“Who areyou?” Dedue said with a glower.“I thought you would never ask!” said Kid Yellow-Cape. “I — am Claude von Riegan,” he announced with flourish.“And I — am Hilda Valentine Goneril!” said Miss Pink Hair, mirroring his moves.“And we are — ” — they linked arms together — “ — the Golden Deer!” They posed.“Oh-ho-ho my Go-ho-hods!” Catherine heard Parvati titter behind her.“We’ll be the ones defeating you in the Mock Battle!” announced Hilda.“And you’ll get an ass-kicking at Gronder Fields!” declared Claude, pointing.“It’s decided already!” said Hilda. “Because the Golden Deer — ”“ — aregolden!” Claude finished.“Feeeeear the Deeeeeer!” Hilda added, complete with hissing noises.
Relationships: Catherine & Shamir Nevrand, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Dedue Molinaro, Dorothea Arnault/Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Flayn & Seteth (Fire Emblem), Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Many upcoming ships start in Part 2, Randolph von Bergliez/Original Female Character(s), Seteth (Fire Emblem)/Original Character(s)
Series: The Last Lotus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022544
Comments: 89
Kudos: 38





	1. The Earth That Meets the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> This work has a fantasy novel-style appendix: [Companion Document for Fandom-Blind Readers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28903680/chapters/70910445) \- useful for anyone.
> 
> **They say history is written by the victors. The Blue Lions are about to rewrite it.**
> 
> Enter Dimitri, the Prince of Faerghus. His parents died in the Tragedy of Duscur under circumstances he does not believe. When he discovers a professor from Duscur, he insists she help him discover the truth to clear her country’s name.
> 
> Enter Parvati, the world’s leading Technologist. Her parents made excavating ancient ruins their work; Parvati made Agarthan Technology her world. Little does she know, her post at the Officer’s Academy is a trap.
> 
> How does a Duscuri professor come to terms with the Blue Lions? What will she do when she finds out the Tragedy of Duscur has an Agarthan link? And what happens when the Lion and the Lotus discover Truth has multiple enemies? For she’s been in the sinister maw of the Church of Seiros for longer than she knows…
> 
> **OR: a fic with a DanganRonpa / Ace Attorney style courtroom trial for the Tragedy of Duscur.**

_Fire Emblem Three Houses - Official Art_

* * *

Deep in the center of Fódlan, a crown of mountains protects its heart. In the center of these mountains is the tallest mount of all, and atop this mount stands the Garreg Mach Monastery.

It is said to be The Earth That Meets the Sky.

Here, white banners of the Church of Seiros pierce sparkling azure skies. Golden bells ring from every tower, and in one year from this day, the hills will be slick crimson with the blood of soldiers who come to knock the Goddess out of the sky.

There are many stories of how this comes to happen. There are many stories why. Thousands of stories from over a thousand years…

But those stories are wrong.

This is the one true story. This one is called _The Lion and The Lotus_.

* * *

Enter the Viceroy of the Monastery. His name is Seteth. He is a man at once gentle and stern. He is second-in-command at the Monastery, and in his office, he directs two trusted subordinates with one untrusting task.

“Catherine, Shamir, I bring you together today for a more covert task. We have a new professor arriving today, and I want you to make yourselves her ‘friend.’ At every step, report to me her intentions, aims and desires. The Archbishop and I have reason to believe she bears ill will towards the Church. We must gather evidence if this be the case.”

Stalwart and headstrong Catherine says it will be done. Knife-tossing sniper Shamir complains about making friends and baby-sitting. But the Knights of Seiros go on their way, seeking the professor who matches Seteth’s description.

“New professor, huh?” says Catherine, trotting out into the apple-crisp sun. From the vantage point of the stairs leading down from the monastery, she and Shamir survey the marketplace below. “What do you think she’s going to be like, Shamir?”

Shamir says, “I don’t know.”

“Oh, _pretend_ like you care,” her partner insists.

“I don’t.” Shamir is too busy being offended about being asked to be a _tour guide_ to pretend. “That must be her,” she says, pointing.

Catherine frowns when she sees what Shamir pointed at. She asks, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Catherine frowns. “But she’s from Duscur,” she says.

“What’s wrong with Duscur?” asks Shamir.

Past the stalls of fruits and vegetables is a tea tent. Past the tea tent and the grill of smoking meats is the blacksmith and the battalion ward. And past them, in a large avenue, mills pilgrims and soldiers. Here, traveling caravans park their loads. A carriage has come to a stop.

Just stepping out of this carriage is a woman who looks Catherine’s age, with the telltale brown skin and silver hair of Duscur. She nods to an Imperial knight. The knight directs the merchant beside him to the cart that followed her carriage, and when the merchant returns to her, she accepts what he was holding into her hands.

“What’s wrong with Duscur?” Shamir asks again.

Catherine says, “ _Nothing._ ”

The woman turns around. In her hand is a golden birdcage. With her right arm outstretched to hold up the dome cage, Catherine could see what the woman is wearing underneath the gleaming green cloak. It was surprisingly Adrestian: a black turtleneck hugs her body, and black jeans bottom out into flares. Gold chains perch along her waist and her neck, though. It seems she is true to at least one custom of the Duscuri; they are always bejeweled in gold.

The marketplace starts noticing. Looks in passing turn into abject stares. People lean in to whisper together. There are two types of people here: the ones who turn away when her even gaze lands on them, and the ones who hold her eyes in challenge.

She loses interest in them. Then, from across the marketplace, the professor looks directly at Catherine and Shamir.

Catherine gets tense. “Let’s go,” she says to Shamir.

The Knights of Seiros cross the marketplace. When they get to her, the professor is beholding the sheer size of the megalithic monastery behind them. Using the book in her left hand to block the sun, she traces the top of its closest tower with her teal eyes. “Stay close to me, Randolph,” they hear her say to the knight as they approach. The Imperial knight takes a place beside her and eyes Shamir and Catherine warily.

“So I hear you’re the new professor,” says Catherine.

“I am one of them,” the woman says. She pockets her book and extends a hand in a white glove. “Please call me Parvati.”

Catherine is surprised to shake hands the Adrestian way. The professor has a firm grip, and she gives two quick pumps.

“Randolph tells me you’re Thunder Catherine,” Professor Parvati says. “He’s regaled me with your legends for the last two hours, and now, I can’t keep any of them straight.”

“Dr. Sinha!” The Imperial knight gives her a side-eye, to which she returns a remorseless grin. He bows and introduces himself. “Randolph von Bergliez, Commander of the Fifth Division.”

“Fifth Division? Of the Imperial Army?” says Catherine.

Shamir introduces herself, then says, “Quite the non-trivial escort.”

She’s right. Catherine is beginning to see other von Bergliez soldiers marching along two covered caravans entering the marketplace. The carriage itself has the insignia of von Bergliez stamped upon its doors. So focused was Catherine upon the professor, she hadn’t noticed the Imperial knight beside her is no lowly escort. Likewise, the von Bergliez soldiers are scoping Catherine and Shamir out, in more ways than one.

“I brought a few National Treasures with me,” the professor explains, looking back at the caravan. “Is the Viceroy ready to receive…?”

Shamir and Catherine exchange a glance. 

_National treasures?_ thinks Catherine. _Who_ ** _is_** _this woman?_

“This must be what Seteth was referring to,” says Shamir. “He’ll come to receive it himself. But until then, Catherine and I are here. We’ve come to help you settle in, take you to your apartment, and deliver you to the Archbishop shortly.”

Parvati doesn’t look prepared for a welcoming party. She looks from Catherine to Shamir, then says, “I think we should wait. I am not entirely…” She looks at Randolph.

“My soldiers are watching over them,” he says.

“I _know,_ ” she says in a very meaningful way. She makes the mistake of looking past his shoulder at them.

The von Bergliez soldiers start hooting and hollering.

“Get a room, Randolph!”

“Yeah, _Commander_ , get whipped!”

“Heh heh, like, _lit’rally_ bruh!”

“Laslow! Bacardi!” Randolph yells back. His eyes flicker once to the Knights of Seiros as he turns red.

“Wow,” says Catherine.

Randolph starts blathering. “We should go now. Can we go now, Parvati? We should go.”

* * *

When they get to the professor’s apartment in the Faculty Hall, Shamir parks the rolling luggage in a corner. “This is right above Alois,” she says. “You’ll hear him sing nightly.”

“Oh,” says Parvati hesitantly. “Is that a good thing?”

Shamir shrugs unhelpfully.

Catherine follows them in, watching the professor disappear down the hall to explore her new accommodations. Randolph places the bird cage on a table big enough to host large card games. The birds chatter incessantly. 

_What was a woman from Duscur doing in Adrestia?_ Catherine wonders. “Let’s not keep the Archbishop long,” she says out loud.

“The Archbishop!” mutters Randolph. He examines the towels hung artfully alongside one wall and calls, “Parvatiiii…don’t use these towels… Some of them need to be washed.”

“Oookaaay!” she calls back to him.

He turns back to the Knights of Seiros and asks, “So what is the Archbishop like?”

It is the right question to open Catherine’s heart. Before Catherine has the chance to laud her lady, however, they hear an indignant cry. “What’s _this_?” says Parvati, pointing.

“A bookshelf,” supplies Shamir unhelpfully.

“No, I know _that_ , but — why is it full already?”

“Hanneman’s surplus,” Shamir supplies, this time helpfully.

“Hanneman! Half these books are discredited already!” cries Parvati. “Tell him to take back his books!”

“May I suggest not making that the first thing he hears you say?” Randolph warns. He makes a hand motion she must be accustomed to seeing, telling her to lower her voice. With his foot, he gently closes the door.

“Oh, he’s heard _plenty_ from me,” says Parvati. “Where is he?”

Shamir looks at Catherine. _She knows Hanneman?_ the look says. Shamir tells her he is away for some personal business.

This does not please Parvati. She says, “What! _He_ was the one who told me, _Bring Randolph_!”

Randolph’s eyebrows go up. This is new information to him.

“Come on,” says Catherine, getting impatient. “The Archbishop is waiting.”

“Wait! I have a present for you!” says the professor.

Shamir and Catherine looked at each other.

“You’re starting to give them away already?” asks Randolph.

Parvati moves one of her luggages onto its side and starts rummaging. She tells Randolph to close the door.

Catherine starts to say that Randolph already closed the door, but apparently the Imperial knight understands Parvati means the bedroom door. Parvati has already closed the living room blinds, so the primary source of light now pools in from the bedroom window. With the closing of that door, the rectangle of light gets skinnier and skinnier, until it slims into a line under the door.

It is dark now. Catherine can feel Shamir come to high alert. They wait for their eyes to adjust as they listen to the professor harrumphing. She is, after all, now searching through her luggage _in the dark_. Shamir gives Catherine a look that says, _I’m not sure she has all her marbles in there._ If Shamir could see Catherine’s expression, she would see Catherine replying with: _Just like Hanneman._

“Ah _hah_!” says Parvati. She is now approaching them with what looks like two — she screams.

“Put your weapons down!” snaps Shamir.

From the other side of the room, Randolph yells. “What’s happening?” He halts in his tracks when he sees the glint of Shamir’s dagger at Parvati’s throat. With her other arm and a knee along the professor’s back, Shamir has the professor doubled over in a Dagdan hold meant to break an arm.

“Put down…the weapons,” Shamir repeats again.

The professor drops what she is holding and squeaks, “Not weapons!”

Catherine picks them up — two white batons.

“So what _is_ it?” Shamir asks, her breath on Parvati’s ear.

“They’re Aegir lights.” Parvati’s voice is strained. “You turn them on by tapping the base.”

Catherine turns the strange white batons back and forth, then taps one of the ends. A pure, straight beam of light shoots up into the ceiling.

“It’s consistent and controlled,” the professor says. “Not a flicker, you see? It makes no shadows dance.”

“Huh,” says Catherine. She zigzags the three-inch wide circle of light across the ceiling, then to the bird cage, then to the shelf. With each movement, things pop out of the darkness and into sharp relief: the yellow plumage one of the birds, a glass of honey on a shelf, glinting, the shock on Randolph’s face, dusty books on the overstuffed shelves.

Catherine has to admit, the professor is right. The shadows do not dance. This is _way_ better than a torch or lamp.

“Now can you let me go?” asks Parvati.

Shamir releases her, and Parvati stumbles away, rubbing her neck. Randolph pulls Parvati behind him. Needless to say, it is Shamir he pays attention to now, rather than her storied counterpart.

“Is this the usual greeting for a professor?” asks Parvati.

Randolph shushes her. “Forgive her,” he says. “She will explain what she wants to demonstrate in advance from now on. That way, no soldiers encounter any surprises. Right, Parvati?”

Parvati huffs.

“How does it work?” Shamir asks, changing the topic. Catherine proffers her the second baton. It fits neatly into her hand.

“It’s captured lightning,” the professor explains. “You won’t ever leave without it on your expeditions. I am sure of it.”

Catherine has her misgivings about the woman, but she is too curious not to ask. “How did you capture it?” She taps the base of her own Aegir light. The room falls into a fresh, palpable darkness.

“It’s Ancient Technology,” says Parvati. “That’s what I am, the Professor of Ancient Technology.”

“You mean — like Agarthan Ruins?” Catherine asks.

“Precisely.”

“Agh!” says Catherine. Shamir has turned the light on directly into Catherine’s face. “What are you _doing_?”

Shamir tilts the light up to the ceiling. She says, “Sorry.”

“Great… Now I’m seeing green on the back of my lids.”

Shamir makes an approving sound. “We can use this for blinding then…”

Parvati’s bangles clink in the silence. “To the Archbishop, then?”

“Let’s go!” Catherine nods. “Professor of Ancient Technology, huh? I look forward to seeing more.”

* * *

_So she has finally arrived,_ thinks the Viceroy to himself. It has taken longer than he had expected. Much longer.

Escorted by his trusted knights, she is captured by the stained glass mural on the Audience Chamber’s ceiling as she approaches. When she recognizes what it depicts, she looks back down, self-conscious. She meets Seteth’s eyes. The Imperial soldier bows beside her, and she follows his example. Her long silver braid slips over her shoulder. She catches it before it touches the floor.

“Dr. Sinha,” says Seteth. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

He can see that the weight of time bears down on her shoulders. This is especially true since the mural currently hanging above their heads is a massive depiction of the Imperial Calendar. By the Imperial Calendar, she has taken four Goddess-damned years to respond to his summons.

_How bold of her._

Beside him, one of Seteth’s other knights inserts himself.

“Pleased to meet you! I am Alois!” The man breaks into a large smile.“Let's start by breaking the ice. It's kind of a _slippery_ subject, but I know we can _crack_ it!”

“Oh no,” the Imperial soldier says, visibly dismayed.

Parvati beams beside him. “Pleased to meet you too! I am Parvati. We Duscuri are often good at currying flavor, but I am only good at currying favor, so don’t you ask me to cook!”

The Imperial knight closes his eyes.

Alois explodes with laughter. He prods Seteth. “I _like_ her! I _like_ this one!” 

The Imperial knight introduces himself. Seteth blinks. How did Enbarr Imperial University acquire the escort of a _Commander_? Why are they protecting her so seriously? What do they know?

She turns to Seteth. “Thank you for your patience! I had to finish my doctorate and postdoc, but — now I’m here! What an extraordinary opportunity.”

Seteth nods solemnly, and looks at something behind her. Parvati follows his gaze. He knows what she is seeing: the Goddess reincarnate floats across the marble floors. With her headdress tassels bobbing, jewels faintly clinking, a dark blue cape floating about her shoulders and a white gown pooling at her feet like water in a waterfall, the Archbishop makes her entrance.

Catherine, Shamir and Alois sink on one knee to the floor. Randolph and Parvati stand transfixed. A common reaction — the reaction the Church of Seiros has consciously constructed to be the norm.

“Professor Parvati,” says Lady Rhea. “Welcome to Garreg Mach, and the Officer’s Academy.”

Parvati seems lost in a trance. “With a voice like that, there must have been many who were instantly assured of the Goddess’s existence.”

“And you?” asks Lady Rhea. “Are you assured of the existence of the Goddess?”

Parvati cocks her head. “Of course. I believe in many gods and goddesses.”

Seteth sees Catherine looking over to him. The room has gotten suddenly cold.

“As I had promised you may,” Seteth says to Parvati, looking at Rhea. “Faith in the Seiros Doctrine, though common, is not a mandate for anyone serving in the Officer’s Academy. Or the Knights of Seiros. We only look for the best.”

Lady Rhea looks at Parvati for a long moment. When the Archbishop nods finally, more than one person lets go of their breaths. “Do feel free to attend the Cathedral and find any comforts you need. Know that the Church will always have you, regardless of past or deed.”

Parvati bows. “That would be lovely! I’ve been there before.”

She doesn’t miss the way Seteth and Rhea exchange glances. When had Parvati previously been to Garreg Mach?

“I must go now,” says Rhea. “I leave Seteth to provide instruction. He will be your guide and steward in your time at the Officer’s Academy, just as he guides and commands the Knights of Seiros. Please listen carefully to what he has to say. Until tomorrow, farewell.”

Parvati and Randolph bow, waiting the full time it takes the Archbishop to exit the Audience Chamber. When she does, Seteth holds an arm out towards his private office. It is the room underneath the Star Terrace, locked by an enchanted door.

There is no overhearing what gets said beyond that door.

As Parvati moves in its direction, Commander Randolph follows. Seteth gives him a look, making it clear he hadn’t expected the commander to come in with her. The commander looks at Parvati.

“It’s all right, Randolph. It won’t happen again,” she says to him.

The commander takes in a deep breath, then says, “I will be right here.”

 _Ah,_ thinks Seteth, for the Commander’s look of apprehension makes it crystal clear. _He wasn’t sent here by Enbarr Imperial. He has come here for Parvati himself._ The smile the Commander won from the Duscuri professor validates Seteth’s impression.

And as the enchanted door closes behind him, Seteth thinks, _Commander of the Fifth Division. What an important ally Parvati has made._

* * *

Parvati is standing where Catherine had been standing when Seteth assigned the mission. Seteth motions to the chair in front of his desk. “Please, sit.”

Parvati remains standing behind it. “Please, sir, I’ve been sitting so long on my journey. It feels good to be standing.”

“Very well,” says Seteth. He takes a seat at his desk.

It is after he runs through academy logistics that Parvati comes alive. “The Museum — ” she begins.

“Is not ready,” the Viceroy finishes.

“Oh!” says Parvati. She traces the Crest of Seiros carved into the top of the chair. She does not know what to say.

Seteth says, “In a bizarre move, the builders we contracted had canceled. It took a while to find other sufficient builders. I know we had promised a museum for your artifacts, and this will still be the case, Professor.”

Parvati blinks slowly. He can see she is thinking.

In reality, there were no such builders, because in reality, the Church building a museum for Agarthan artifacts is ridiculous. But this is what he had to tell her in order to lure her in, and through her — all the Agarthan artifacts Enbarr Imperial might possess. She is the conduit, the world-renowned Ancient Technology Professor, who has the signing power to request the license on behalf of Garreg Mach. Despite the Monastery being a great political power, E.I. University had spent extraordinary capital to discover the Agarthan ruins and excavate the artifacts it now covets close to its chest. Thus, it was Seteth’s — no, St. Cichol’s idea — to use E.I.’s own trusted, beloved professor, to acquire each piece of Agarthan technology so the Church of Seiros could disappear them away.

Which means the reverent Cichol is playing a game. They could have killed her, after all, at any time. But St. Cichol is not like St. Seiros. St. Cichol is thorough, and he is patient, more patient than his counterpart. Thus, he will wait until he has acquired everything…before Parvati too is taken out of the light.

Parvati speaks. “So, the artifacts I did bring…”

“The Church will take care of them immediately. While the museum is constructed, we will store them,” says Seteth. Then he thinks, _Permanently_.

Parvati nods. “Then I can help ensure they are being properly stored.”

Seteth shakes his head. He cannot have her getting in the way. “There is no need. You need not fear about that. We will be storing them with the same care the Church stores its own valuable treasures.”

Parvati’s eyes widen. “Wow! I would _love_ to know what techniques you use to handle _treasures_! Perhaps the Church’s techniques are even better than Enbarr Imperial’s. How do you handle humidity?”

 _She is very attentive,_ thinks Seteth. He says, “That is, unfortunately, private information.”

The professor looks put off.

 _I have to give a little,_ thinks Seteth. He does not want her to get suspicious. He says, “Apologies. The _location_ is private information, but I can certainly introduce you to an archiver. I am sure she can appease you and all of your questions.”

Parvati looks pleased. She bows and thanks him. "The Agarthan Museum…” she begins. Then there is a moment she cannot speak. She clears her throat. “This will be the culmination of my parents’ work. I only wish that my parents could see it.”

Seteth hesitates. “Your parents, they were the linguist and archaeologist, were they not?”

Parvati nods. “What you are doing for me…” She bows again. “Dear Viceroy, you are fulfilling a dream.”

Parvati leaves. Seteth stares at the Crest she had been tracing on the head of the chair, the Crest of Seiros, thinking, _No, Parvati. I am not fulfilling a dream._

_I am fulfilling a nightmare._

* * *

* * *

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Thank you for embarking upon this journey. What began as a Duscur fix-it has turned into a multi-installment epic complete with murder mysteries, mythic prophecies, and magnanimous courtroom trials. Justice will be made._

_Some special thanks:_

  * _To my Boo, for listening to me talk about this story non-stop since July 2020 and unblocking me when I’m stuck!_
  * _To kiri /[@royoon_](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQVoKRx/) on TikTok, for drawing Parvati fan art (featured later) and helping me with Character Design._
  * _Thank you also to MashPotato2424, my first Beta Reader! Her feedback was critical in setting themes and mood for this piece, and you can thank her for the absolutely burgeoning role Randolph is going to play. ;)_
  * _And last but not least, to Moyou /[@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808?s=20) on Twitter, who saw me request a South Asian Dedue, and then she did this:_



__

_This picture took my breath away and helped me set a foundation for Duscur full and rich. Thank you, Moyou, for helping me visualize it! Now it’s time for me to make it real._

_You can look forward to this Dedue at the Ball. ;)_


	2. Gaspard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work now has a fantasy novel-style appendix: [Companion Document for Fandom-Blind Readers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28903680/chapters/70910445) \- useful for anyone.

“You must be the new professor,” said the new woman in the Audience Chamber. “So young…” She had been in the middle of conversing with Randolph, Catherine and Shamir, but she turned her full attention to Parvati when she came out of the office.

Parvati did a double-take. She had come out of Seteth’s office thinking she and Randolph could make a get-away…squirrel away into her new apartment, investigate what in the world he meant about those towels, and maybe cuuuuddleeeee and kiss-kiiiiiiiss…and maybe have some snuuuggleeeees…since Randolph was not meant be here long. It was how she usually processed what was happening in the world around her when she was with him, snuggled safe in his arms…all squishyyyy…and waaaaarm…Parvati being the squishy part, of course.

But the moment she stepped out of Seteth’s office, she knew it would not be so. That was because, right in the middle of the trio of knights, was none other than —

The woman approached her. “Professor Parvati, I am — ”

“The Divine _Songstress_!” Parvati squeaked. She began to hyperventilate.

Parvati’s home base of Enbarr Imperial was not far from the Mittelfrank Opera Company. In fact, Parvati’s her graduate year dorms had been even closer. How many times had she heard that towering voice swoop up like a twirling swallow, and plummet like a hawk, at the water fountain outside her old abode? It was customary for a senior member to bring the newest, freshest voices to practice out there, on summer days before it got hot. Even in the rain. Parvati heard it was to ease their nerves, to become accustomed to performing. What a way to live! When even _practice_ …was performance!

“Miss — ” — Parvati couldn’t breathe — “ — _Casagranda_!” She sank into a gracious bow. “You of all people need _no_ introduction.”

Manuela’s eyes sparkled. “I like her already.”

Parvati clasped her hands together, stars in her eyes. “Oh! Gods! You are everything I imagined…”

“Get used to it quickly, my dear,” Manuela said, linking an arm with her. “It sounds like these knights want to get in a little sparring. Why don’t I give you a tour of the campus? The training grounds are uncouth! And stinky.”

“I did not agree to this,” cut in Randolph.

“That’s because _he_ is afraid.” Catherine crossed her arms.

Randolph gave Catherine a side-eye, but Parvati silenced his protests. “You think I don’t know how much you’d regret _not_ sparring with Catherine after coming all the way here? Besides,” she gave Manuela’s linked arm a squeeze, “I am now in the presence of the _Divine Songstress_. I am busy, and _you_ are dismissed.”

Randolph grinned. He saw the way Parvati’s eyes linger from his eyes to his lips. It made his heart speed. His heart was still racing as he and Catherine watched the professors walk away. Shamir walked after them.

“Wait, she’s not coming with us?” asked Catherine. “Let me guess: she doesn’t want to watch me wallop you.”

Randolph shook his head. “It does not please her. She is a pacifist.”

“A _pacifist_? Then what is she doing with _you_?”

He gave a mysterious smile. “She had to make an exception.”

Catherine raised a brow. “Wow, okay, hot shot. Let’s see what you’ve got in you!”

* * *

Whatever Randolph did have in him, Catherine walloped him nonetheless. She left Randolph hobbling gingerly to Parvati’s apartment. The stairs had not been a fun experience, nor the look on Parvati’s face when she saw him.

“I thought you two were _spaaaaarriiiiing_!” Parvati wailed when she saw him. She suddenly left him standing alone in her apartment and magically came back with Manuela, who turned out to not only be her neighbor, but also this year’s Head Physician. As Manuela examined him and began healing incantations, Parvati kept fretting and flittering around unopened boxes and suitcases.

Manuela perked a brow at him, unbeknownst to him, a certain amount of jealous. The look of hostility was not one he had anticipated. She said, “You sure you two are going to make it?”

Randolph blinked. He was getting that feeling of icy-hot where one of his ribs had broken, and the bleeding on his arm had stopped, and he had all of the expected nausea that came with white magic, but…were there going to be side effects? He’d never been healed by someone who looked like she hated him before.

“What about his cheek and his face?” asked Parvati, pointing over Manuela’s shoulder.

Manuela batted her hand away, growling, “Yes yes yes!”

Parvati glanced at Manuela, startled. She shut her trap.

Twenty minutes later, Manuela had gone back into her room.

Parvati locked the door, listened for Manuela’s footsteps to fade, waited to hear the physician’s door close…then went back to whining again. “I thought you two were _spaaaarriiiing._ ”

“We were,” Randolph said, bending forward to touch his toes and verify his ribs were okay. He still had a hundred percent of the bruises and winced. He was fine now, but he was going to besore and colorful tomorrow.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” insisted Parvati.

They left a trail of Randolph’s armor across the living room floor and down the hall, wherever he had let Parvati “help” him out of it. The trail led to the bathroom, where he leaned back against the corner of the sink as he let Parvati press a clean, wet undershirt against his rib cage. She surveyed the series of bruises there. She did this thing where she furrowed her brows and sucked in her lips and dabbed at the blood smears with extreme concentration, and by the _Goddess_ did Randolph want to just gather her into his arms and kiss her stupid adorable face off.

But he didn’t, because then she would know that he was perfectly fine and then she’d get mad and she wouldn’t be making the stupid face.

What was there to say? He enjoyed the attention.

“Ease my pain, Parvati,” he said. “I will feel better if you kiss me here.” She did. “And here. And here. And here. And also here.”

She treated him to light little kisses wherever he pointed — his heart, his shoulder, the top of his hand, his eyebrow — but she frowned when he pointed to his lips.

“No, you have to wash your face,” she said. His cheek and lips were bloody.

Randolph smiled, kissed her nose — “ _Ewww!_ ” — and turned to the sink and washed up. There was a new crescent mark on his right cheek in the mirror. He made eye contact with Parvati’s worried face in the reflection.

“Is that what you’re going to look like for the rest of the year?” he asked.

She said, “What?”

“Your students are going to be sent to battles monthly. At least.”

Again, she was making that stupid face.

“So what did Manuela say?” he asked.

“Oh, you know,” said Parvati. “Going over lesson plans. Hanneman is coming back tomorrow. Some students come early too. Orientation’s in four days. By the gods! _Lots_ to do!”

But she was excited. He could see it.

Parvati shoved Randolph out of the way of the sink by nudging him aside playfully with her hips. She ran the shirt in the water, soaping out the blood and dirt. “We’re going to teach the Black Eagles, of course, naturally, if we have a choice. That’s where all the money’s at. And the more valuable connections. Did you know they have a sauna here?”

He nodded absently, his eyes landing on her right wrist. Shamir’s Dagdan hold had left its own bruises. All the warmth that had been blooming and expanding extravagantly in his heart suddenly shriveled into cold.

He almost didn’t have this with Parvati. This moment. That stupid face. Her gabbling away right now. Those little kisses. All that whining and mewling. The lines on her face that she was bound to have in only a couple of years, what with all of her worrying.

He loved it. He loved _all_ of it. He loved her.

And he almost lost everything today.

He was standing there, not five feet away from her. _Five feet_! When Shamir caught Parvati, when she was holding — he could hardly allow himself to think of it again, a _dagger_! — at Parvati’s throat…he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything! All he could do in that moment, was wait…and beg.

What was the point of being an Imperial Commander if he couldn’t save someone five feet away from him? What was — all of his training, all of his skill, all of his strength, if it meant nothing in that moment? If it meant nothing in the only moment that mattered?

That feeling again. He swallowed. He never wanted that feeling. Catherine may have left him humbled, but Shamir reminded him what it meant to be helpless again.

“What?” said Parvati, throwing the shirt over the shower rod to dry. “Why are you so quiet?”

“What did Shamir say?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“Didn’t Shamir go with you?” asked Randolph, suddenly remembering.

Parvati frowned at him. “No.” She was clearly not a fan of the idea either.

That made Randolph feel better. Shamir was a Knight of Seiros. No doubt she had other obligations. She was busy.

 _But what if she was following her?_ wondered a part of him. Parvati had been utterly starstruck. With Manuela at her side, she could have been besieged by a horde of flying buffalo and she wouldn’t have noticed.

 _Why would Shamir want to follow Parvati?_ responded another voice inside his head. The voice of reason.

The voice of reason wasn’t winning today. He followed her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where she flopped onto the bed and turned over and made space for him.

“I have a bad feeling,” he said.

Parvati looked unimpressed. “You always have bad feelings before you go.”

This was true. He was leaving her again, tomorrow. It turned out Randolph was also a worry-wart.

He said, “You have to be vigilant.”

“Randolph, this is a high school.”

“A school full of _royals_.”

Parvati rolled her eyes. “You are also noble.”

He said, “Barely. It barely even means anything.”

“And that is how I _like_ it,” she said, stuffing a pillow under her head. “The best nobles are the ones who don’t make it anything.” She beckoned him to lie down beside her.

“I haven’t showered yet,” he said. He could see she was getting impatient, so he bathed quick and nestled into the blankets beside her. She looked up from her book.

“You’re reading that one _again_?” he said, picking the trashy romance novel out from her clutches.

“Shut up. It’s gets me through when I don’t have you,” she said.

“But you _have_ me now.”

“Then it’s basic comfort. You stress-train; I stress-read. My comfort novel.” She cuddled into his arms, breathing in his scent and crooning, “ _Mmmm._ So waaaaarm! You. Smell. So. _Good_!”

He sank a kiss into the flesh of her palm and held her, his satisfaction complete. These were the moments to live for: Parvati frowning at his hair dripping onto her pillow and making it wet, then all the giggles and the cuddles and the kisses. She smiled at him. Then her smile faded, and he could see that she was thinking of something else.

“What is it?” he said.

She looked at him. “There _is_ something fishy,” she said, “and it’s not fish.”

Randolph waited for more. He was accustomed to waiting out dumb lines like these. (He also was accustomed to waiting _for_ dumb lines like these…all those weeks, all those months spent away from her.) Parvati told him about the builders, builders who had taken on a contract from Garreg Mach, but then canceled without warning.

“Who has the _gall_ to do that?” she asked. “To _cancel_ on Garreg Mach!”

“They didn’t even start _building_ the Museum yet?” Randolph asked, incredulous.

“No…”

Randolph frowned. “Well, tomorrow afternoon, we’ll be done moving in the artifacts.”

Parvati nodded. “I need to see how they are being stored.”

“It might be a while…” he said.

The two of them looked at each other. Over time, Parvati’s lips were twitching. She could not keep a straight face or handle the silence. She declared: “Okay! No. More. Talking!”

Randolph grinned. “Not. A. Word.”

And they proceeded to do things that cannot be documented for readers under eighteen years old.

* * *

The next morning, the Viceroy called over to Parvati.

Parvati was startled. She and Randolph had just entered the dining hall, and it just occurred to her that she might see her boss here every morning. And every lunch. And every dinner. _Oh phooey._ Her university in Adrestia allowed her to choose different cafeterias to keep her private life private. Now she led Randolph down the aisles between the long rows of wooden tables.

They stopped on the other side of the table from him. Seated at the bench beside him, a green-haired girl wiped crumbs from a half-eaten croissant off of her face, then yawned politely, covering her mouth with a hand.

Seteth bid the two good morning, and announced to Parvati that Hanneman had arrived.

“Hanneman?” Parvati’s eyes lit up. “Here? Where?”

The Viceroy notified her that he had just gone to the bathroom and would be back momentarily.

Parvati looked down at the unattended little plate on the table right in front of her. Black coffee and a cookie. “Is this Hanneman’s?”

The little girl nodded, eyeing Parvati and Randolph with interest.

A sly grin came over Parvati’s face. She leaned backwards to look past Randolph at the dining hall’s entrance. The bathrooms were in the Entrance Hall. Seeing the coast was clear — no Hanneman — Parvati picked up the cookie, took a bite, and put it back on the tray.

“What are you doing?” Randolph cried out.

Seteth and the girl stared at the moon-shaped cookie, both of them open-mouthed.

“Oh, this chocolate is _good_ ,” said Parvati, licking her finger. She gave the girl a conspiratorial wink and started pulling Randolph towards the breakfast bar at the front, saying, “Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

But she was too late.

“Parvati! There you are!” came Hanneman’s voice.

He was coming _from_ the breakfast bar. There must have been more restrooms back there somewhere! Parvati slid the plate with his bitten-into cookie out of view behind her and presented perfect composure as he approached.

“Listen, you _must_ see to my updated thesis. What I sent you last month was rubbish. Absolute rubbish!” Then he paused, pushing up his monocle as he noted the man behind her. “This must be him.”

Parvati nodded fervently, pulling Randolph forward beside her.

Randolph bowed. “Randolph von Bergliez, Commander of the Fifth Division.” He held out his hand.

Hanneman shook it with a nod. “Hanneman von Essar, though I do not partake in that house anymore. Father of Crestology.”

Parvati jumped forward and snuggled under Hanneman’s arm and hugging him sideways. “Hanneman!” she squealed. She had quite forgotten her boss and grinned at Randolph.

“Hmm, hmm,” said Hanneman absently, patting her back as he stared at Randolph. He shook himself out of reverie. “Pardon. I just want to make sure that you’re — ”

“Good for Parvati?” asked Randolph. “I completely understand. I have a little sister.”

Hanneman nodded. “I have a little sister too. Had. Actually, not just that. Parvati’s mother would never forgive me if I let something happen to her.”

Parvati squished him, beaming.

“Then I can feel secure about leaving her in your hands,” Randolph said with a smile.

“Oh! Certainly! That you can do!”

In the next moment of silence, the two men came to an agreement. Then Hanneman looked at Parvati cradled under his arm. “Well! Go get some breakfast. I will be here.”

She said, “Okay!” As she and her lovey-love walked away, the three at the table overheard Parvati saying, “You looked so _cool_ , Randolph!”

Randolph grumbled back, “You were supposed to be hugging _me_!”

Hanneman chuckled and sat down to his coffee. He looked at his cookie. “This was Parvati, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was! I was quite astonished!” said the girl, unable to contain herself anymore. “It seems you know her, Professor?”

“Yes, Flayn. She is the daughter of an old colleague,” said Hanneman, sipping his drink.

Seteth nudged his daughter to finish her food.

“I’ve known her since she was this big.” Hanneman held a hand out just over the edge of the table, then shook his head in disbelief. “I invited her parents to come to my office, the first time I met her. And in the middle of it all, she’d slipped away and found my lunch. She climbed up my chair and desk to eat my cookie.”

“Ah,” said Seteth, now understanding. He looked over to the breakfast bar. Parvati was heaping things onto a plate Randolph was holding. He looked uncomfortable.

“She called them ‘mookies’!” Hanneman reminisced. “That’s why I call her ‘Mookie’.” He looked at Seteth. “And now to think, now, she is my _colleague_!”

Flayn giggled. She reached over to Seteth’s plate and took a bite of his cookie.

She was about to put it back when Seteth said, “Flayn! That’s bad manners!”

“But a _professor_ did it!”

“That does not make it less bad!”

“ _Wow_ , what a cutie!” gushed Parvati, just returning with Randolph. She was looking at Seteth. “Is this your daughter?”

Seteth cleared his throat. “This is my _sister_ ,” he said, sticking to the story to protect their Nabatean heritage. He couldn’t have her — and certainly not Hanneman — find out he and Flayn were actually St. Cichol and St. Cethleann! It was bad enough that he and Flayn had to constantly evade that stupid Crest Analyzer.

Flayn stuck her hand out to the professor for a hand shake.

“Oh!” Parvati made a production of setting down the two coffees and exaggeratedly cleared her throat. “Professor Parvati, at your service, Miss…?”

“Flayn!” said Flayn. She shook hands with Parvati, then passed her hand over to Randolph and made him shake as well. She beamed at them, declaring, “You are my first modern hand shakes.”

Parvati bowed her head somberly. “’Twas an honor.”

Randolph asked, “Modern?”

Flayn deflected. “I’m going to call you Mookie!” she announced.

Parvati glanced at Hanneman, startled.

“Flayn!” said Seteth. “This is a professor! You must show her respect!”

Flayn scowled at her father. “ _Professor_ Mookie, then!”

That gave Parvati a laugh. “All right, Flayn, but it’s _our_ little secret.” She leaned forward over the table. “You can’t tell this to anyone, _especially_ not the students.”

Flayn nodded fervently. They had a secret!

Then Parvati turned to Hanneman. “You too, Professor!” The voice she’d used for Flayn had vaporized. “How am I going to be taken seriously if you tell this story in front of my _boss_?”

“Oh,” said Hanneman, glancing at Seteth.

 _The name is_ ** _not_** _the reason I wouldn’t take you seriously today,_ thought Seteth…though it _was_ a pretty cute name…

“Ah! Randolph! Parvati!” Manuela was strolling their way.

“Who is that?” asked Hanneman, turning to Parvati.

Seteth prepared to introduce her. Then he heard what Manuela said next:

“You two were awfully rowdy last night. Did you have _fun_?”

Randolph spit coffee out of his mouth. Parvati and Hanneman looked decidedly at their breakfast plates, not meeting each other’s eyes. Flayn looked at their expressions.

“And now we go, Flayn,” said Seteth, standing up.

“But I’m not finished — ”

“No. We have to go. _Now_. I’ll hold your croissant.”

And with that, Seteth made the first of many Manuela-escapes. It was going to be a skill he would hone quickly, and sharpen like a blade.

* * *

Parvati didn’t _really_ want to go to the Cathedral with Manuela, just like she didn’t _really_ want to saw her pinky toe off with a butter knife. But while Randolph declared he needed to check on the artifacts and Hanneman said he was going back to his office to settle in, Parvati could not conjure a single reason why she couldn’t join Manuela on her trip to the Cathedral.

It might have had something to do with what Manuela had implied in front of _Seteth_. Her boss. Or maybe, Parvati was beyond mortified by the fact that _Hanneman_ was there. She couldn’t decide. Which is why, for the rest of the day, Parvati was broken. She’d learned a valuable lesson this morning:

Manuela was a wild card. You never knew what Manuela might say.

Now they walked across the Great Bridge, the Divine Songstress dragging the ghost of Parvati’s dignity by the arm into the holy space.

Parvati forgot how grand this place was. The voice of the choir rang up into the lofty heights, then swirled back down into every inch of space here, carrying with it a hum of prayers so thick she could breathing them. She felt like any words she might want to say to Manuela would be buoyed up like a bird on a thermal lift, to the stained glass Goddess upon the ceiling. A benevolent Sothis marveled down, the light of the world passing down through her in yellows and blues and greens.

“I wonder if I can join the choir here,” said Manuela.

Parvati clasped her hands and bowed her head to the Goddess. “Why not? They would be honored if you could join. You could even lead it, perhaps.”

“If I did, would you join?”

That broke Parvati out of her prayer. She said, “You don’t want me singing.”

“Pish posh! I could teach you if you would like.”

Luckily for Parvati, something else drew Manuela’s attention before Parvati had to tell her she _wouldn’t_ like.

“That’s the uniform!” said the opera diva.

She was pointing to a boy who had his head bowed in prayer. He was mouthing words into his clasped hands, half his ash-gray hair looking blue in the light of the stained glass Goddess.

“He must be a student!” said Manuela. “Let’s go talk to him!” She started heading his way.

Parvati froze. Was it too late to hide? If Manuela turned around, she would definitely call to her. But if Parvati ditched her now, she would never hear the end of that either. Parvati sighed and slinked after the click of Manuela’s heels.

Parvati picked out the words “Ashe?” and “Blue Lions!” by the time she joined them. The boy directed Parvati a curious look, and gave a smile that reached his green eyes and pushed out his freckled cheeks.

“You may have once taught Christophe,” he was saying to Manuela. “He is my older brother. He was at the Officer’s Academy ten years ago.”

Manuela blinked at him. “Do I look old enough to have been teaching here ten years ago?”

The poor boy started. He said, “N-No?”

“Well, good, because I’m _not_ ,” Manuela insisted. “This is Professor Parvati.”

Ashe bowed. “Hi, Professor Parvati! I’m Ashe. Ubert. From House Gaspard.”

 _Gaspard!_ thought Parvati. It took her to a time in the past.

The card in her hand: _Gaspard, Christophe._ The smell of tobacco. A blackboard with a hundred cards on it. Names of people, places. Yellow yarn connecting them. Terms like: _Duscur, Tragedy; Lambert, Assassination._ It was all a math proof, a puzzle. It was something she would solve. But the tobacco smoke was piling thick. It was making her cough. She turned to snap at that grad student. “Open the window, Christophe!”

 _Christophe._ That was the name of that math graduate student. Not her assistant. Her advisor’s assistant. That was why she remembered the card that said _Gaspard, Christophe_ on it. They had the same name.

Not just that. There was another reason. There was something different about this card. This card had something on it that none of the other cards had: _Date of Execution_.

Date of Execution. Christophe Gaspard was the only Faerghusi personage to have been executed…for his involvement in the Tragedy.

The Tragedy of Duscur. The thing that killed her parents.

Someone else called out to Ashe now. A low voice, a gruff one. Parvati snapped back into the real world. She felt the hair on her arms rise up. She was coming to realize…that she was about to meet with someone else who would need no introduction. His name had been on her cards before.

She turned to face him.

_Gaspard, Lonato._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I didn’t anticipate the Tragedy of Duscur coming into play right away in Chapter 2. Things are happening much faster in this revision!
> 
> Thank you to my beta readers MashPotato2424, Moyou / [@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808) on Twitter, and kiri / [@royoon_](https://www.tiktok.com/@royoon_?lang=en) on TikTok!
> 
> Special thanks to kiri / [@royoon_](https://www.tiktok.com/@royoon_?lang=en) for this incredible Parvati character design! 
> 
> Based off the art style of Genshin Impact! She's got that red-black Adrestian pride! Thanks so much Kiri!


	3. The Book of Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behold the Prince of Faerghus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow. This is a pretty astounding response to a brand new long fic. Thank you so much to everyone who has left a Kudo on this fic. That’s _you,_ [Moyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moyou), [LadyofBoneandIvory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofBoneandIvory), [Minglan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minglan), [Jackoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackoat), [marmaladeSkies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmaladeSkies), and [winterseaport](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterseaport), [Remember_Summer_Days](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remember_Summer_Days) — and all of you 11 guests as well!
> 
> Also, to [Minglan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minglan), [Ashilaa_A03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashilaa_A03/pseuds/Ashilaa_A03), Zdala, [marmaladeSkies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmaladeSkies/pseuds/marmaladeSkies), [Remember_Summer_Days ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remember_Summer_Days/pseuds/Remember_Summer_Days)for _such_ in-depth comments! They help enlighten me about what’s working. Once I know it works, I tend to ramp that up, so if you see something you like and want more of it, let me know in the comments. :D

**Chapter 3**

**~ The Book of Cards ~**

* * *

_Previously..._

Someone else called out to Ashe now. A low voice, a gruff one. Parvati snapped back into the real world. She felt the hair on her arms rise up. She was coming to realize…that she was about to meet with someone else who would need no introduction. His name had been on her cards before.

She turned to face him.

_Gaspard, Lonato._

* * *

“Ashe.” Lord Lonato did not wait for Ashe to finish turning before he sent a backhand across the boy’s face.

Manuela and Parvati cried out.

He said to the boy, “What did I tell you?”

Ashe had his two hands stacked one over the other on his left cheek. His swimming eyes did not stray from Lonato’s.

“I said, what did I tell you?”

“You said don’t talk to them.”

“And what did you do?”

Manuela stepped forward. “Excuse me. I happen to be a Professor at the Officer’s Academy. He _is_ going to be a student, isn’t he? Then I would imagine he _should_ be talking to professors.”

Lord Lonato turned to her. “A professor? I apologize. It is regrettable that you had to see that.”

Manuela falters. “I don’t understand.”

Parvati did, however. And it finally struck Manuela what Lonato had meant when the man’s eyes strayed to Parvati next.

 _Don’t talk to them_ hadn’t meant her and Manuela. Don’t talk to them meant don’t talk to _her_ — to Parvati. To the woman of Duscur.

“He didn’t start the conversation,” said Parvati, deadpan. “We started it.”

“Do not defend him, little lady,” said Lonato gently, “for I fear _you_ will be the one who gets the boy killed.”

Parvati’s jaw dropped. “Wh - _What_?” That made _no_ sense. Her? Parvati? Getting his child _killed_? What the _hell_ did he think she would be doing?

The soothing voice of the Archbishop interrupted her thoughts. “Lord Lonato.” The Archbishop had come to stand beside Parvati. On her other side was a red-haired knight who stood mum.

Parvati and Manuela bowed. In the distance, the voice of the choir swooned and lulled. Lonato’s eyes lingered on the knight beside her before resting on the Archbishop. “Archbishop,” he said.

“You had arrived,” she said, “and yet you did not grant me the comforts of your company?”

Lonato regarded her, seemingly calculating what to say as his hand reached behind him and pulled Ashe closer.

It was a motion the Archbishop did not miss. “Lord Lonato…your apprehension stings.” She looked at Ashe and said, “He will not be waylaid. I will care for and guide him personally. You have nothing to fear, milord.”

Lonato said, “I have everything to fear.” He looked at Parvati, as did Ashe. “This woman, what is she doing here?”

Rhea looked at her. “She is a Professor at the Academy. Parvati, greet him.”

Parvati felt like she was a child, being told by a mother to say hi. But because she wanted to do things the easy way so she could get away as swiftly as possible, she obediently bowed her head.

Lonato looked back at the Archbishop. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Lord Lonato?”

Lonato said, “I lost one son because for his Duscuri consort. Now you deem this one okay?”

Parvati blinked. Christophe had been in love with someone from Duscur?

Lady Rhea said, “The Church is very purposeful in the people we choose to employ, Lonato.”

A vein throbbed in Lonato’s temple. “You are, as ever, the image of grace, Archbishop,” he said, “and an astonishing calm. Is this what you looked like, the night you ordered for Christophe’s execution?”

The voice of the choir came to a sudden stop. Manuela gasped. Parvati felt like she had been punched in the chest. All of her breath was thrown out of her.

Archbishop Rhea gave him a dark look. “Your son was executed for the crimes that he committed, not for whom he associated with.”

 _Oh great. At least the Archbishop’s not racist, right?_ thought Parvati. Her mind was reeling. The Archbishop had ordered the execution of Christophe? She knew the Church had executed him, but it never occurred to her — that she had _met_ the person who had given that command, and that in fact, Parvati was standing right next to her. She was close enough for the Archbishop’s cape to be _touching_ her left arm right now. Parvati’s skin erupted in goosebumps.

“For what it is worth,” said Rhea, “allow me express my condolences. I would have had it any other way.”

“Then why couldn’t you think of one?” Lonato said through a thick voice and gritted teeth. His eyes sparkled through a film of water. Behind him, two rivers ran silently down Ashe’s face.

“Because he did not give one to me,” said Lady Rhea. With this, she bowed and said, “Gilbert, let us go.” She led the knight away with her.

Parvati didn’t know why she kept standing there, like her legs were carved out from the floor. Lord Lonato set his jaw and looked back at her. He said, “I am sorry to have to ask you this. But you’ve already taken my firstborn son. Don’t take this one.”

Parvati scoffed. She looked at Ashe, who matched her glance before walking away, led away by Lonato by the shoulder.

Manuela looked at her. “What was _that_?” she said.

Parvati shook her head. “That’s not going to be the last time.”

“I don’t envy you,” said Manuela. “I’d _heard_ of how the people of Duscur are treated by the Fearghusi, but…I had no idea… I thought originally what he meant by _them_ was proletarians.”

Parvati chuckled bitterly. “Oh. Yes. That.” She became lost in thought. _I came here to teach math, but…_ She recalled what Randolph had said on the night before: _a school full of_ ** _royals_** _._ He was right. Out of twenty-four honors students, eighteen were nobility. And counting Ashe, eight of the students were from Faerghus.

She did _not_ want to meet the other parents from Faerghus.

Or the students.

Manuela kept looking at her, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I have no other choice than to be.”

Manuela frowned. “That’s not true. You shouldn’t have to stand for such abuse.” She surveyed the people swirling around them, saying, “But I understand… That was a little bit what the opera was like. For as long as you’re the diva, you are a goddess. You are a star. But when you stop… We are only valuable as accessories to the nobles. When you are not an accessory, they remind you…” She frowned. “Though I can’t help it. The _gall_ of that woman, expressing _condolences_ …"

Parvati checked if Rhea was around, then nodded. “I have a bad feeling,” she heard herself saying. The same words as Randolph.

“I do too,” Manuela nodded. She took Parvati by the hand and started leading her away. “How about let’s _not_ talk to anymore students?”

* * *

Bad memories. She was being pulled into bad memories. She told herself she wouldn’t let this happen.

Parvati fingered the spines of the books she had shelved in her office, each of them ending with a white lotus symbol under her parents’ names. She had a full collection of everything they had published, on that ancient civilization, the old linguistics, on the archaeological structures and social hierarchies of people that no longer existed.

It made her sick. Her parents had spent their _whole lives_ aggrandizing paraphernalia from the past? Of people who were dead now? Did they have any idea, that their own people would be next? Is this what they should have been doing, what _she_ should be doing now — trying to keep Duscur from becoming something she could fit on two shelves?

She bit into the side of her hand to block the sound of weeping. Did her parents spend all their lives memorializing someone else when they should have been memorializing themselves?

Her door was closed and her window was open, so Parvati listened to the sounds outside. There was a baker hollering her wares nearby, a singing, jingling advert as the wheels of a cart squeaked past. It wasn’t so cold that the dogs weren’t barking. A little girl was screaming, “Give it back! Give it back! This isn’t fair!”

 _Don’t do it,_ a voice said inside her head. _Parvati, don’t do it._

But her hands went to work anyway. They slid down the shelves, the many spines and found the book, the one with the lotus symbol pushed in. She pulled it out — _Agarthan Linguistics_ — and smelled the pages. Still had her mother’s scent, for Parvati had spilled her perfume all over these pages. She had managed to free the first couple of pages…but a block of the middle pages had stuck together. This book was unreadable. Parvati opened to that middle block.

Cut into stack of those middle pages was a rectangular shaft, and snuck into there, was a deck of note cards, Adrestian standard.

This was the culmination of her Tragedy of Duscur investigation. All of those cards, her notes, were here — everything that she could travel with. She hadn’t dared to leave it at Enbarr Imperial, in that unoccupied apartment. Who knew when a burglar would come in.

Though, now she was feeling foolish — no thief would think to steal, of all things, books!

Parvati looked up at the open windows. She closed them. She checked the lock on her door. From the office next to her came the muffled sound of Manuela singing. It had been two hours since she’d met the Gaspards, and it was now a comfort to hear the sounds of Manuela in her office: the scrape of a chair, the grate of a table, anything. And every now and then, there was the sound of Alois. It didn’t matter where he was. If he was in the building, they could all hear him laughing.

Parvati took a deep breath, and turned the book over, dumping the cards out onto her hands. They were all written in Randolph’s block text, beautiful block text she could not hope to emulate. They were all out of order — _Dominic, Duscur, Glenn —_ she looked at the door again, flipping through her cards — _Fhirdiad, Galatea, Kleiman_ — _Coroner, Gaspard_ — here! Two cards of Gaspard.

 _Don’t take this one,_ Lonato’s voice whispered in her ear.

She had been happy on that day, the day she found out about the execution of Christophe…because she was able to add _Date of Execution_ to this card. This was her writing. Everything else was in Randolph’s neat block, and here was Parvati’s, half of it cursive, half italics, a scrawl. It was a surprise to add those words. She just plain hadn’t imagined…that there would be anybody…not of Duscur…

But now she remembered, a twinge. When she’d heard of Christophe… She flipped through the cards again. Of all the names within the cards she had… Christophe did not make sense. Nor did Gaspard. The Gaspard territory did not partake in the pogroms, despite being closer than Charon and Fraldarius.

She took out a pen from the desk. _Was in love with a Duscuri woman,_ she added. That’s why they executed him. Did that make sense? She examined the card. All she got from that conversation was a measly few lines. Lonato Gaspard was biased, and neither of them stated what exactly had been the crimes that Christophe had committed. Parvati cursed. Lady Rhea had said exactly that: “executed for the crimes he had committed” — how much more vague could one get than that?

There was a knock on her door. She dropped the card. When she picked up the card, she dropped her pen instead. She said, “Coming!”

Parvati collected the cards and rearranged them into the slot she had made, closed her mother’s book, and slid it back onto her desk, unable to stop thinking about Lonato. Already, he had lost one child. How was he sending another child to the Officer’s Academy? When Lady Rhea was the one responsible for the death of his first one? What was he _doing_?

There was another knock on her door. “Coming!” she called again. She opened up her door.

Randolph.

* * *

"Are you sure she’s going to remember you?”

Laslow had asked this a half an hour ago. Like Ladislava, her twin had the same harvest-gold hair and rose-mahogany eyes as his twin sister. Unlike Ladislava, Laslow worked _under_ Randolph instead of over him, because he he often drank himself under the table and only made it to meetings when they were over. Laslow did not want to proceed further on the military ladder and he’d said as much: “All of the benefits, none of the responsibility.”

He was handing Randolph the completed checklist of artifacts that had been transferred into the Church’s care when he had asked Randolph the question. Randolph asked Laslow what he meant by what he said.

“I mean she’s surrounded by the best of the best,” Laslow said. “What were you telling me? Catherine Thunderbrand. Distant Archer. Divine Songstress. Father of Crestology. The Archbishop. And soon…the future Duke, the future Emperor, the future Prince.”

It was a half minute exchange, but it stayed with Randolph for the next half hour.

Which was why, when Randolph saw Parvati’s eyeliner smudged across her cheek, he asked, “What’s wrong?” And when she insisted, “Nothing,” he thought, _She is hiding something._

 _That…hasn’t happened in a while,_ he thought as he followed her into her office.

Then he thought, _No, this_ ** _always_** _happens. When do I_ ** _ever_** _know what is happening with her? Her letters hardly say anything._

 _Don’t be stupid,_ said his voice of reason, trying to abate the lick of anger flickering like new flame.

But Parvati saw his dark look. She paused re-inserting the book she in her hands into the bookshelf when she said, “What’s the matter?”

He said, “Nothing.”

The two of them stared at each other.

“They’re ready to go,” Randolph said.

“I — what?”

“The soldiers. The transfer is done. The soldiers are ready to go.”

Now he had her attention. She blinked. “I thought you said after dinner.”

“The Monastery was very professional. They were swift and completed early.”

Parvati set the book down at the edge of the table and made her way to him. “Right now? You’re going right now?” She looked from his shoulder to his hands to his ribs, to all the bruises she had kissed just yesterday. She said, “But why? Why do you have to go? Why do you have to go now? Why do you have to go early?” She searched for something upon his face. “Tell the others to go. You’ll catch up.”

 _Then maybe you should tell me what’s wrong,_ thought Randolph, latching onto the anger and holding on.

But then she put a hand on his face, and her voice broke as she said, “Sta-ay…”

Randolph could feel his heart melt. He filled with relief. He let himself sink into her kiss and let her pull him into her embrace. They were light kisses, but long ones, and her hands were just finding his when they heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Parvati pulled away. Randolph was not ready to let go, but he relented begrudgingly when he saw it was Catherine and someone else.

The Knight of Seiros was standing at the doorway, one of her hands clapped over the eyes of some kid who was struggling. “Catherine! Let go!”

“Next time you want to do this, maybe start with locking the door,” Catherine said with a grin. “You were giving Cyril a show! You didn’t even charge him for it.” 

The kid finally pulled the knight’s hand off of his face and glared at the Adrestians. “No, _don’t_ do that,” he said, pointing a broomstick in their direction. “I don’t want to even imagine what I’d have to clean in this office if you were to lock it. Get a room!”

Catherine burst into laughter. Randolph turned bright red. This kid had moxie. He shouldn’t even know about such things!

Parvati started blathering. “We should go now. Can we go now, Randolph? We should go.”

* * *

“It’s open,” said Parvati, analyzing the finishing touches of a brand new face of makeup in the bathroom mirror.

Randolph strode in, fully dressed. “Who is this lady, all made up?” He leaned in against her ear. “Got someone to impress?”

“You need to _go_ ,” she reminded him, pushing his face away with her hand. He was still smelling like the sweat she helped him work up…something she was sure he would hear about from Laslow and Bacardi.

Randolph chuckled. “All right, all right, I’m going. But first…” He followed her to the living room and put a hand on her wrist when she picked up her cloak. “You have to tell me what was wrong.”

Parvati paused. “That’s a long story, Randolph.”

“Then I better find out before I go.”

“Your soldiers are waiting.”

“They do not wait for me. I ordered them to depart already.”

Parvati bit her lip.

“Don’t bite your lip like that, Parvati…or I’ll have take you back into the bedroom.”

Parvati rolled her eyes. He was insatiable. She said, “Sit down, Randolph.” She started telling him what happened as she made chai in the kitchen. She watched the milk simmer with crushed cinnamon and cardamom.

“The Lord of Gaspard said _what_?” said Randolph.

She said, “How could it be, that they are talking about me…but I had no voice?”

Randolph sat quietly.

“It is not that I couldn’t think of what to say,” said Parvati. “I had so much I wanted to say… But it wouldn’t matter. It was already apparent. Nothing I _could_ say would change his mind.”

“Better that you didn’t say anything,” said Randolph. Parvati looked at him. He said, “I told you to be careful. You can’t say _everything_ you think here. It’s not safe.”

He accepted the chai and stopped to breathe in its scent before he started drinking. Parvati smiled. She had made it the way he liked it.

He saw her smiling and said, “What?”

“What am I going to do without you, Randolph?”

He smiled. Then he returned to that distant look. “What’s more, the future Duke of the Alliance, the Princess of the Empire, and the Heir to the Holy Kingdom… All will be here.” He looked at her. “How are you going to handle it?”

“Handle what?”

“The Prince of Faerghus.”

Parvati was intimidated. The Randolph she was speaking with now was the Commander of the Fifth Division. Parvati thought for a moment. The Prince of Faerghus. Blood of Blaiddyd. It was this name, that — _Blaiddyd_ — name the Knights of Faerghus were said to be screaming as they butchered — and slaughtered —

Parvati shook herself out of these thoughts. Randolph wasn’t asking about her; he was asking about the Prince. _The Prince thinks my people killed his parents,_ thought Parvati. She thought of Lady Rhea today and said to Randolph, “The Church will keep me safe.”

She didn’t believe it for an instant.

Neither did Randolph. “It sounds like Ashe was a gentle being. Obedient. I can’t imagine that of the Prince, do you?”

Parvati shook her head.

“Stay away from him then.”

Parvati looked at Randolph.

“Be careful with your students, and be wary of the Prince.”

Parvati nodded.

“It doesn’t matter what you have to do.” Randolph slid the cup of chai aside to take a hold of her hand. “And if anything happens…” He squeezed Parvati’s hand.

She squeezed his hand back and said, “I know.”

* * *

“It won’t take me long to reach the others,” said Randolph. “I’ll take the express way.”

“Express way?” asked Parvati. She had followed a Randolph and his refreshed horse from the stables to the entrance of the Monastery, where the stairs led either down to the marketplace or up into the Entrance Hall. One of the two guards glanced their way, yawning.

“There’s a side road, for single riders like messengers,” said Randolph, pointing the way. “They can’t be slowed down coming up the mountain on switchbacks, if the Monastery needs to be notified of something urgent.” Randolph looked down at her. “You aren’t even listening, are you?”

Parvati flushed. She said, “You will look so _good_ on a black horse in that red armor!”

“I’d say that’s a fair assessment!” the guard who had been yawning chimed in.

Parvati and Randolph looked at the guard, and then glanced at each other.

“Thank you,” Randolph said.

“Wait, one more thing,” said Parvati. “What were _you_ upset about?”

Horns sounded two notes in the distance. The voice of the marketplace shifted below. The market was stirring. Vendors were putting their wares away. Shoppers were hurrying their final purchase. Tables were being moved. Tents were being taken down.

The place was emptying. They were making space.

Randolph frowned. He mounted his black mare to see what was coming up the mountain. His eyes widened. The gatekeeper who had just talked with Randolph and Parvati stepped into the Monastery and called up the stairwell.

“That’s Blaiddyd! The House of Blaiddyd! Behold the Prince of Faerghus!”

Parvati’s heart jumped into her throat. She looked at Randolph.

He said, “You need to go. Now!”

“Randolph…” She took one backwards step.

Four floors above where they were standing, the bells of Garreg Mach exploded.

Randolph shouted to her, “You have to go!”

The bells of Garreg Mach were ringing, and they would not stop until the Prince arrived at Garreg Mach’s doorstep — right where Parvati was standing. She could see the banners on the pikes now, cresting into view over the walls of the marketplace.

“Just _go,_ Parvati,” Randolph said again. He guided his mare close to her, leaned over the side and took Parvati’s face into his hands. He pulled her into his hungry kiss. He was breathing hard when they parted.

Randolph backpedaled on his horse as he said, “The Goddess knows I love you. Now _go_!”

That woke her up. Finally. The Faerghus banners were approached the main entrance, ducking out of sight as the long poles passed through the gates and under shorter doorways.

Parvati backed away into the Monastery. When she turned around, she found both sides of the Entrance Hall lined with the Knights of Seiros and the staff of the Monastery. They had all come to stand here and welcome the Prince. For her to run down the Entrance Hall now would mean running past everyone. She looked around. She was in the stairwell, before the Entrance Hall — the ones that led up to the bells.

She went up. Her boots clacked up four flights, every toll of the bells getting louder and louder with every step. She burst out onto the overlooking balcony. That’s right — she had been here just this morning. With Manuela. “The best view from the Monastery!” That was what she had said.

And now Parvati could see him — Randolph — the unmistakable red on the black mare. He was raced down the expressway at a gallop, speeding to catch the rest of his command. When he left her sight around a hairpin corner, Parvati did not expect the way her heart fell. She took a deep breath and backed up slightly. Heartache had made her bold enough to lean over the edge. Now, standing are her full height, she looked down into the marketplace, at the retinue of Faerghus.

Eight dozen soldiers had already marched in through the outer gates. The bells were stopping now, so the horns of Faerghus seized what was left of the air. The Blue Lion on each banner swayed hungrily over their heads, and over the tops of the tents of the blacksmiths and armorers. And there, in the center of the whole retinue, looking up at the Monastery — no, looking up at _her_ — was the Royal Prince of Faerghus.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand he has arriiiived! You can thank the illustrious Moyou / [@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808?s=20) for [this amazing Dimitri](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1338106396693438471?s=20) she made for this piece! ;)
> 
> Thank you to my beta readers MashPotato2424, Moyou / [@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808?s=20) on Twitter, and kiri / [@royoon_](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQVoKRx/) on TikTok!
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	4. An Inevitable Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obvious Disclaimer: I don’t own Fire Emblem / FE3H, obviously. I’m just a fan writing fan fiction for these wonderful franchises. Thank you, Intsys.
> 
> Also, thank you so much to [tastyweeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastyweeds), [Inkbrush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkbrush), [Ashilaa_A03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashilaa_A03), and [Satelesque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satelesque) for the kudos! Thank you, also, tastyweeds, Inkbrush, Ashilaa_A03, and Satalesque for the comments! :) They are tremendous in helping to motivate me to march forwards!

“So is this it?” asked Parvati. She blew on her coffee as she consulted Hanneman and Manuela. “This is the makeup of my three classes?”

They were in the Mess Hall since morning, and had taken charge of an entire table to lay out the foundations of their classwork. Hanneman was at one end of the table, flipping through her syllabi and lesson plans, while she and Manuela arranged and rearranged all the students in her math classes based on their performance in the pretest. There were now twenty-four students placed in Basic, Standard, and Advanced classes.

Manuela looked through the notes Parvati had on the cards for Claude and Hilda, then placed the first in Standard and the second in Advanced.

“Lysithea, Hilda, Lindhart, Annette, Edelgard, Dimitri, Ferdinand, Hubert, and Sylvain…” Manuela said under her breath. “Do you want such a big Advanced class? You could move someone down one level. Who’s got the lowest scores…Hubert and Ferdinand…” 

“Are these your Ancient Technology lesson plans?” asked Hanneman. “You have twenty four in each of the others, so why are there only four of them here?”

Parvati picked up the cards for Hubert and Ferdinand card. “What if we moved Ferdinand? …Then he would do comfortably…could move both…”

“Hello,” said someone behind her.

“Hello,” intoned Parvati automatically, absorbed.

“Parvati, why are there only four lesson plans?” Hanneman was still asking while she shushed him.

It was just as she had decided where to place Hubert and Ferdinand that she became aware that activity had stopped around her. Manuela was looking at something behind her, and even Hanneman, who had previously been flipping through papers, was standing stock still.

Parvati looked over her shoulder. Standing just past her right shoulder was the tallest Duscuri she had ever seen. She barely came halfway up his forearms. He was clearly North Duscuri. Wide in the shoulders, wide in the chest, he wore an Officer’s Academy uniform that was clearly tailored for him. His glinting teal eyes met hers directly with a closely guarded expression, until Parvati squealed in delight. “DEDUE!!!”

Take note: no one had ever squealed his name before.

The Duscuri’s eyes widened. From behind her, Manuela said, “Do you know him?”

“No!” said Parvati, grinning like an idiot and shaking his hand.

Take note: no one had ever shook his hand either — certainly never so vigorously.

When Parvati realized everyone was looking at her, she explained, “Ah! I am just — so excited! Dedue…you are the first student of Duscur at the Officer’s Academy. You..have made… _history_. And I, Professor Parvati, am the first faculty member from Duscur. I have made history. _And_ — the fact that you and I are together, and are here at the same time — is — ” Again, that high-pitched _squee!_ “Ohhh, I’m so proud of you! When did you get in? Did you eat? I didn’t see you before.”

She let go of his hand. Dedue blinked at her, clearly overwhelmed, because his answers were “yes” and “yes.”

“Your hair is just like my father’s! _Squee!_ It stands straight up like his! What’s with the South Duscur earring?”

“My family lived in South Duscur…”

“Oh! Of course! You’ve got a North Duscur build, so…” She paused and put her hands on her hips and considered him. “Huh. You look _good_ , Dedue. _Dashing!_ I didn’t know the Officer’s Academy uniform would look so good on us.”

Dedue adopted a rabbit-in-the-cage look and looked towards someone behind Parvati.

“Welcome to the Officer’s Academy, Dedue! I’ll take care of you!” declared Parvati.

Someone started laughing behind her. Parvati looked at who it was and the smile dropped off her face. She realized Hanneman and Manuela hadn’t gone quiet because of Dedue — they had been looking at the person standing next to him.

Straw-blonde hair, sparkling cerulean eyes, his shoulders shook as he continued laughing. Tall in his own right, just a few inches shy of Dedue, he had a blue cape slung over his left shoulder and a leaner build. From his right shoulder, a blue belt slung down to his opposite hip, fastening a sword to his hip.

It wasn’t Dedue who had said hello, Parvati realized. It had been Prince!

The Prince smiled widely at Dedue as he said, “That…was the happiest reception I have _ever_ seen Dedue get in my life! That was _wonderful_!” Those cerulean eyes now landed on Parvati. He bowed to her, ignoring the shock plain upon her face as he introduced himself. “My name is Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. I wonder, if you’ll be taking care of me too?”

Parvati made noises. Manuela cut in in front of her, pushing Parvati behind her as she said, “I’m Manuela. I’m a professor, a physician, a songstress, and available. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Manuela, that is _not_ what you are supposed to say to the students!” Hanneman butt in. He too pushed himself in front of Parvati as he introduced himself.

 _Saved!_ she thought to herself, her heart blooming with gratefulness to Manuela for jumping in, and to Hanneman for tagging along. Stumbling back into Dedue, however, Parvati came face-to-face with the pin on his chest. She frowned at it. “You’re…from Faerghus?”

There was another peal of laughter from the Prince. He glanced over Manuela’s shoulder, at Parvati, as he said, “I am pleased to meet you. A songstress, did you say?”

 _Wait,_ thought Parvati. If Dedue was wearing a Faerghus pin…she looked at the Prince. That meant Dedue and Dimitri were together.

What was a Duscuri doing with the Faerghusi Prince?

Whatever Manuela was saying back to the Prince, Parvati did not hear over a sudden, batting, clapping sound. The side doors to the dining hall, the ones overlooking the pond, were open and bouncing lightly in the wind against the walls. At the foot of the doorway, some papers were _skiff-skiffing_ across the floor. A few white sheets cartwheeled in and out of view outside the double-doorway.

Parvati looked at the table. Her stack of lesson plans was definitively smaller. “Oh my gods!” she hissed. She sprang forward to shut the doors and reassessed the table.

This was bad. This was very bad. She taught three math classes, three times a week, and one technology class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The only way this was possible was if she had all four classes prepped well in advance. And now she just had a few sheets of paper, spilling over the edge of the table and, after falling onto the bench, split around it, and reunited into a pile on the floor.

The others were looking at her now.

Hanneman stuttered, “Parvati! Th-This is my fault! I forgot to put back the weight on the plans!”

Parvati stood open-mouthed, then dropped to her knees collecting the pages under the table. “I need to present the syllabi to Seteth!” She craned her head to see the clock behind the Prince’s head. “In fifteen minutes!” She flipped through the pages in her hands. “Is it still over here?”

She was grateful to huddle beside the table. It blocked everybody out of her view, and gave her a moment to swipe a wrist over her eye while she was out of their view. _It’s not here not here not here not here —_

She heard Hanneman say, “Ah ha! Thank goodness! Parvati — the syllabus — I have in my hands!”

Parvati jumped out from behind the table. “What?”

Hanneman shoved his papers into her hands, the ones he had been holding all this time. Three syllabi for her three math classes. But Ancient Technology wasn’t here.

Nonetheless, her shoulders came down in relief. “Thank the Goddess,” she said, grateful. She threw her arms around Hanneman, squeezed, and released him.

“But what about the lesson plans?” asked Manuela. Behind her, Prince Dimitri looked at Dedue.

Parvati swallowed. “One thing at a time!” she said, trying to keep control of herself. She had thirteen minutes remaining.

Hanneman made his way to the door. “Parvati! You gather what you have at the table! I’m going outside to collect what I can!”

Prince Dimitri said, “We’ll help!” Dedue nodded.

Parvati made a sound of disbelief. How could she be so stupid? How many minutes had the door been open? How didn’t she hear it before? Now the papers had blown in every direction — some dancing to the courtyards, diving to the fishing pond, cart-wheeling to the student dorms. She wouldn’t be surprised if at least a few of her lesson plans didn’t go winding and down the mountain. Algebra at the alcove, trigonometry under a tree, math analysis at the mountain pass — like titles for children’s stories.

Prince Dimitri and Dedue followed out after Hanneman. Manuela made it a point to re-shut the door and watched Parvati gather the nine of the twenty-four students cards still on the table.

What was she going to tell Seteth? She couldn’t even tell him who was in what class for her mathematics class rosters. She looked back at the clock again. Five minutes!

“Don’t worry,” said Manuela. She came and rubbed Parvati’s arms. “We’ll get back to you with as many papers as we can when you come out, okay?”

Parvati sniffled and nodded.

“Now you can’t go upstairs looking like this. Go to the bathroom, wash your face, and then give Seteth a _performance_ , you hear?”

Parvati smiled. “Manuela…you’re the best!”

Manuela smirked. “And don’t I know it!”

* * *

Dedue Molinaro, son of a blacksmith and ardent vassal to the Prince, followed in his liege’s footsteps as they chased after lesson plans in the courtyards. There were four tables for student lounging under a dome gazebo. It was empty now, so Dimitri took a spot in the shade. He examined the hand with the papers they had managed to retrieve, gauging the sunburn.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“About what?” Dedue asked. He himself was standing in sunlight. With his dark skin, he naturally didn’t sunburn, and this kind of sunlight was as close to the warmth of Duscur as he had experienced in five years.

“The professor, of course!” said the Prince.

“Which one?”

Dimitri waved the papers at him with an irritated glance. “You know which one.”

From the look on Dimitri’s face, Dedue knew the Prince was expecting much. “She is…vibrant.”

Dimitri smiled. “She has taken a liking to you.”

“For the moment.”

This response did not please the Prince.

Dedue said, “What?”

“Dedue. She has shown you more warmth and kindness in one minute than most anyone in Faerghus in five years. That must have _meant_ something.”

“For one minute, yes. But you should have seen her face in the next, when she saw the pin of Faerghus on my chest.”

Dedue could see he had made the Prince angry. He did not mind. He was one of the few who could get away with it. 

Dimitri said, “She has reason to — ”

“Yes. She has. And that makes her a threat to your life.”

“She is your _ally_ , Dedue — ”

“Not yet. Please. Do not coax yourself into this unfounded belief, Your Highness.”

The papers Dimitri held crinkled. Oops. They were crushed.

Dedue held a hand out to take them, saying, “ _Your_ ally is my ally. Until she is your ally, she is my enemy.”

Dimitri glared quietly for a long time. Then he said, “Have it your way.” He slapped the papers into Dedue’s hand.

Forty minutes later, Dimitri asked, “What are you looking at?”

They were in the greenhouse now, where crickets were chirping and a low-flying bird almost flew right into the Duscuri. Dedue ducked. That’s when he saw it in between the lilies and carnations: a familiar note card. He plucked it out and they looked at it together. The front said:

 _Ferdinand von Aegir_ , 78.  
Age: 17  
Crest: Cichol  
Nationality: Adrestia

On the back it listed _Likes, Dislikes_ and _Interests_.

Dimitri gave a bark of a laugh. “Likes: _being noble_? Dislikes: _nobles who are not noble_? Is this a _joke_?” 

“He also likes collecting armor, horseback riding, and dislikes slothfulness,” Dedue said. “You two are alike in those respects.”

From the way Dimitri was glaring at him, Dedue realized the Prince had already made up his mind to passively hate this Ferdinand. Now he didn’t appreciate being likened to him.

Dedue shook his head and moved on. Stuck to the card for Ferdinand was the card for a student named _Hubert von Vestra_. He read through what was there as he asked, “What does it say on your card?”

“I go-o-ot it!” they heard a sing-song voice.

Dimitri and Dedue looked past the anemones, out the window, to the pond. It was Professor Manuela, in water three-foot deep. She was holding the skirt of her blue dress up in one hand, and a wilting set of papers in the other, as she declared to someone, “I found her syllabus! For Ancient Technology!”

“Very good!” came the voice of Professor Hanneman. He must have been standing on the pier. He said, “Bring it here. I’ll dry it.”

Professor Manuela waded out of sight behind the fisherman’s shack.

Dedue returned his attention to the Prince again. “What does your card say?”

Dimitri looked at him, pretending to look unsure of what he meant.

“Your Highness. I saw you take your card off of the table.”

The Prince gave a sheepish smile. “So I was not inconspicuous?” He pulled his card out of his pocket and looked at it, surprised when he read it.

The front said, _Blaiddyd, 94_. He had done well. He turned it over. Nothing.

The back of Dimitri’s had nothing.

He frowned, then flipped it back over. Not only did the back of his have nothing, the front of the card didn’t even have his full name.

He looked up to see Dedue watching him. “Okay,” he said. “ _Not_ an ally. I got it.”

Dimitri put his card away, and followed Dedue out of the greenhouse.

* * *

When Parvati came back out of Seteth’s office, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. Seteth had been quick to approve the syllabi and seemed distracted about something else. He didn’t even ask her about the syllabus for Ancient Technology…and she decided not to bring it up until she recreated it. _Oh, by the way, I had forgotten to bring this other syllabus from my office!_ That’s what she’d say to him.

She trudged into her office, rubbing the side of her head as she sensed the beginning of a migraine. When she stepped into her office, she froze.

Prince Dimitri was perusing her bookshelf. He turned when he heard her enter. “Professor!”

Parvati blinked. “Hi.”

Dedue, who was standing in the middle of her office, motioned to her desk.

Parvati gasped. There were several large piles of papers stacked upon her desk. She rushed forward to see them. Dedue stepped aside as he continued sorting them.

“I think we’ve gotten most of them,” said Prince Dimitri, “or at least more than half.” He pointed past bent pages, to ones at the end that were crinkled. “Professor Manuela fished them out and Professor Hanneman dried them. The ones that had landed in the water.”

 _Of course,_ thought Parvati, thinking of Hanneman’s fire anima magic.

“They’re not completely illegible,” said Prince Dimitri. “He suggested recopying them.”

Parvati scoffed in disbelief. “The four of you did this for me?” She took a shuddering breath and cleared her throat. “It wasn’t necessary…certainly not for a Prince.”

Dimitri looked at her. “I like to think I can be a decent human being before I must be the Prince of Faerghus.”

Parvati’s brows went up. “That’s…good,” she said. _Remarkable,_ she thought. She never anticipated this from royalty. Or nobility in general, for that matter. And…certainly not from him of all people…

“Thank you,” she said to them. “This will save me tremendous time.”

Dedue nodded, his expression unreadable. An awkward silence fell upon them.

 _Wait ’til Randolph hears the_ ** _first_** _students I had in my office were_ —

Parvati’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a tummy rumbling. Prince Dimitri looked at Dedue with a blush. “You haven’t eaten?” she asked. “It’s three o’clock already.” She was astonished: it had just occurred to her that even royalty could have rumbly tummies.

“We got overexcited,” explained Prince Dimitri.

Parvati looked at Dedue. He didn’t look overexcited. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all…

The sound of a tummy rumbling happened again.

Prince Dimitri said, “That was yours, Professor.”

Parvati flushed.

“Why not join us for a late lunch?” he asked. “I know we only just met, but, I hope you will consent.”

 _Stay away from him,_ came Randolph’s voice. _Be wary of the Prince._

Parvati scrambled for a reason why she could not go. That reason came in the form of a series of thuds, then a key being inserted and unlocking a door. The sound of something metallic rolled across the stone hallway floor. Through her doorway, she saw the door across from her office was opening.

“Aelfric!” whispered Parvati. It was time to meet her neighbor! 

Professor Aelfric was a mousy-haired fellow with a timorous expression. He was on his knees with his arms wrapped around something on the floor. Set on the ground behind him was a travel bag, and behind that, a strange silver contraption.

When Professor Aelfric saw Parvati and the students pop out of her office, he dropped whatever he was holding again in surprise. It was a globe. Or at least, the ball part of a globe. It resumed rolling thunderously away from him, in the direction of Hanneman’s office. Dimitri skipped over and stopped it with his foot.

“Hah! Professor Parvati, you must be!” the professor said. He had an amiable voice. He came up from his crouch and looked at the students, his eyes lingering on Prince Dimitri — then Prince Dimitri’s foot.

Aelfric did a sort of semi-bow that managed to be directed at absolutely none of them. He then said, “The Professor of Ancient Technology! Hanneman’s talked about you for months!”

“Hopefully good things!” Parvati said, feigning a cheerful smile. She was unsure of what to say; Hanneman had not said anything about him. She settled for the only piece of information she had gotten from Seteth: “You must be Aelfric!”

Aelfric nodded. He swept the knees of his red monks’ robes. Dimitri picked up the globe and dropped the ball into his hands. The professor made a _hurgh!_ noise, dipping slightly under its weight and pedaling backwards. His feet knocked over the silver thing — the globe stand. Parvati and the Prince exchanged glances. She had a feeling she was seeing why Seteth too had said almost nothing about him…

“Did you just get in?” she asked.

“I’m afraid so…” he said, using an elbow to swing open his door.

Parvati stepped back the moment the door had opened. It smelled quite powerfully of…mothball packets.

“Did I hear you say something about lunch?” came Aelfric’s voice from his dark office. For some reason, he had blackout curtains covering the windows. “If you’re going, I’ll come with you. I am _famished_!” He emerged back out to retrieve his travel bag. “I would suggest the St. Cichol Inn for lunch. Or for dinner. Or anytime. The best food available at Garreg Mach.”

“St. Cichol Inn! I know of the one!” said the Prince, enthusiastic. He turned to Dedue. “I had told you I would take you there. That was where we always went with Glenn.”

Parvati hadn’t seen an inn inside the Monastery. “How far is it?” she asked.

“It is actually down the mountain,” Aelfric said. “Ah, sorry, it actually isn’t _in_ Garreg Mach.” He had retreated back into the dark of his office, and they listened to his disembodied voice as he somehow moved about the room.

“Oh, in Saleh Mach, you mean?” Parvati looked out the windows at the end of the hall. It looked to be past three already, and nights came swift during the winter. It would take over a half hour to get into the trade city. “The cafeteria downstairs would be faster,” she said. “We’re _all_ famished, aren’t we?”

They heard Aelfric stop moving. “Oh. The cafeteria downstairs is…” There was a moment of silence. Then he said, “No. St. Cichol Inn it is. I will see you there, Professor. It seems I have forgotten something.” And with that, he closed the door. Almost in her face. Kind of. Not exactly though. But kind of.

Parvati blinked. That was…surprisingly decisive of him. And sudden. She hadn’t said that she was going…but apparently, he expected to meet her there. She looked at Dimitri. What was she going to _do_? She couldn’t just…

Behind Dimitri was Hanneman’s door. All right, if she was going to get lumped in with these three, she would at least acquire some allies of her own!

But Hanneman wasn’t hungry. Whoops.

“Wait!” he said. “That’s a Blaiddyd! You must have a Crest! Allow me to do research!”

“Uninvited!” Parvati retorted, horrified to hear Hanneman refer to the Prince like some zoo animal. _That’s a giraffe! That’s an elephant! That’s a Blaiddyd!_

“He’s _hungry_ ,” Parvati covered for Hanneman. “You’re not allowed to do Crest research on him.”

Hanneman looked relieved that they were on joking terms again.

She softened. “Hanneman…thanks.”

He nodded. Then he gave directions to the St. Cichol Inn.

Across from his office was Manuela’s. Manuela said she wasn’t coming either. “I have a hangover,” she stated.

“ _Hangover_?” muttered Parvati as she exited the physician’s office. She shook her head. “When did you even manage to drink?”

Dimitri and Dedue, who had been waiting outside, exchanged glances.

Parvati looked at the students, the two of them towering over her. _No way,_ she thought, filling with dread as she tried to wrap her head around what was happening. It was just her. It was going to be just her. And at some point, Professor Aelfric, but…from what she had seen of him, she wasn’t about to count on him.

 _It makes sense,_ Parvati thought with a sinking feeling. She couldn’t possibly ask for shielding forever. She had to deal with these kids.

 _All right,_ she thought. _It’s time to put on the face._ She couldn’t make it seem like she was not in command. The first thing she did was walk to her office. She fished for the keys in her green cloak pocket and, for the first time in her professorial career, locked the door to her office before the day had come to an end.

She could feel Prince Dimitri and Dedue’s eyes burning into her back. No unexpected visitors. Message relayed.

“Let’s go,” she said, not looking back as she led the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don’t remember, Aelfric is the professor Byleth replaces. And don’t worry, Byleth is coming.
> 
> If you like what you've read and would like to read more, check out some [Excerpts from The Lion and The Lotus](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ExcerptsFromTheLionAndTheLotus).
> 
> And as always, thank you to my beta readers MashPotato2424, Moyou / [@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808?s=20) on Twitter, and kiri / [@royoon_](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQVoKRx/) on TikTok!


	5. The Inevitable Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everybody. And congratulations on making it to 2021. Notes:
> 
> 1\. Disclaimer: My Duscur is based heavily on South Asia, but it is a fantasy world, with **a creative-licensed analog** of the customs, cultures, languages and religions. It is **not a direct representation** of any actual countries / cultures / religions.
> 
> 2\. Click on the links if you would like to discover the background and inspirations! (Wikipedia links, links to images, videos and music videos) Disclaimer: I do not own the things I reference to in the in-text links.

“Want one?” Professor Parvati proffered one of the pamphlets she had just purchased from the wood kiosk just inside of Saleh Mach’s entrance.

Dedue declined. He didn’t like reading in Anglais, the common language across Fódlan.

Dimitri accepted on his behalf, and promptly began reading it out loud for Dedue’s benefit. _“Welcome to Saleh Mach, the trade central of Oghma Mountains, crossroads of armies, merchants and caravans. Along the south face of the mountains, the flowered prairies…”_

“St. Cichol Inn…it seems to be five streets down from here. This way,” said Professor Parvati. She led them down the packed road, skirting along the sidewalk as she consulted the map. Her long silver braid, even longer than Dedue’s sister’s had been, swung like a hypnotist’s pendulum behind her green cloak.

_“…scenic views of the sonorous city at the center of Fódlan, with green gabled roofs to shed snow into March…”_

Back and forth, back and forth, with a little clink at every step. Dedue couldn’t understand what was clinking until they took a right at the end of the street and it came out of her shadow and into sunlight. The metallic hairpiece securing her braid — Dedue strained his eyes to determine — was that _gold_?

_“…Garreg Mach Monastery, the endpoint of pilgrimage at the pinnacle of the mountain, is a locale beyond exclusive to non-passersby…”_

Parvati came to a stop where it seemed they needed to cross the road, but traffic was bunched into a slow-moving circle that expanded out onto the sidewalks.

 _“…with less than a hundred students, less than one hundred clergy personnel, and the exclusive Knights of Seiros and monastery staff as its only inhabita —_ oh! Sorry, Professor!” Dimitri, reading the pamphlet, had walked into Parvati.

She frowned over her shoulder at him. Then she looked at Dedue and said, “What is happening?”

She was too short to see it, but a farmer’s cart was tilted into the middle of the road. The traffic diverted itself around the cursing farmer, horse hooves smashing tomatoes spilled out over the road into a blood-like pulp. Dedue spotted the runaway wheel some thirty feet up the street, lying next to the sweets vendor.

Dedue reported the cause of the traffic jam on the road and she frowned. “We’ll have to find some other way around.”

Dedue nodded, watching a three-legged dog lick at the pulp next to the downed cart. That must have been why it was three-legged; it was too dense to stay out of the road.

He felt the Prince tense up beside him. Before Dedue could ask what had happened, Dimitri was weaving through the sidewalks and charging towards Professor Parvati. The men she had been talking to were walking away.

Dimitri’s voice was rising out above the din. “Did you not hear her? It’s a small courtesy to answer the question.”

People glanced Dimitri’s way. The men he addressed had stopped, turned around and were actively sizing him. They had axes upon their belts.

Dedue hurried after the Prince. There were too many people between him and his liege. Any one of them could pull out a blade or a dagger. In a congestion of people like this, if they turned on him…he would become the three-legged dog. Why didn’t he, the Prince and the professor come on horses instead?

The men had wandered back to the Prince and the professor, and were saying something to them both, giving the professor a look of disdain. It wasn’t until Dedue joined them that the men looked up his way, factored in Dedue’s added size to the Prince’s, then chose to turn and walk away.

Dimitri turned to the professor, furious. “Why did you stop me, Professor? Why didn’t you let me declare myself the Prince?”

Dedue noticed that the professor had an arm flung out across Dimitri. She said, “Because the next time I come down here, I _won’t_ be with the Prince, and _then_ I am going to get it.” The professor crossed her arms. “You can’t save me, Prince Dimitri. Please don’t make things worse.”

Dimitri stared at her, jaw-dropped and taken aback.

Dedue looked at the Prince. “She’s right, Your Highness.”

Dimitri sulked. “Be quiet.”

Twenty minutes later, Professor Parvati pointed to the biggest building on the east end of Saleh Mach. “That _must_ be the one,” she said. “And if it’s not, but it has food, I am eating there. My stomach is digesting itself.”

Dedue chuckled. The Prince, still surly, glowered at him.

Lanterns hung up and down the gabled roof. They came alight as the three approached. The mage responsible for lighting the lanterns nodded at them as they passed. Above her, the Crest of Cichol was carved into a grand hanging wooden placard. A series of tinkling wind chimes dropped out under it.

“Oh, Hanneman had said _follow the wind chimes_ ,” Parvati intoned as she followed them into the establishment.

Dedue had to pinch the cloth of fabric at Dimitri’s elbow to force him to stop in the lobby for a moment. They needed to wait for their eyes to adjust to the dark. Dimitri needed to be wary about what people were doing around him.

The St. Cichol Inn seemed to be a gigantic octagon, over six stories tall, the first two floors a tavern. On the first floor, a large stage occupied the center, and every table was set into an intimate alcove along the circumference. The second floor too hosted tables in a ring over those alcoves, ensuring the second-floor occupants could view the stage as well. There was no one on the stage right now.

“I have fond memories of this place,” said Prince Dimitri as they were led to one of the first floor tables in the alcoves. Professor Parvati slid into the bench on one side of it. Dedue led Dimitri into the other. The light filtering through the windows were quite dim. Dedue realized this was because the windows were textured with an opaque cube mosaic. He couldn’t see outside, and those outside could not see in.

It was private.

“I once came here with my childhood friends,” said the Prince. “Glenn was watching over us. The first time we were out without our parents! It was so exciting then.”

A silence befell them. All three of them slipped unconsciously to the same thought: _without parents._ How strange it was, how funny, just how excited they had been as children, on the chance to do anything without their parents.

Now all three would spend the rest of their lives doing everything without their parents.

A server came by to ask what they would like to drink. Dedue stirred, and with Dimitri, said, “Vodka.”

The server started writing it down as the professor burst, “Scratch that. I need to teach at least _one_ class at the Officer’s Academy before I get fired for giving drinks to minors.”

“We’re not minors,” said Dedue.

“In Faerghus, drinking age is seventeen,” added Dimitri.

Professor Parvati said, “Welcome to — Not-Faerghus. If you’re not nineteen, you’re minors.”

It was the first time Dedue was genuinely irritated by the professor. He wouldn’t have minded being warmer, or less sober, with how the day was going. Dimitri grow even more surly beside him. It looked like it was just occurring to the Prince that that he was no longer the top of the chain of command. He was no longer in his castle in Fhirdiad.

The server took their orders, looked hard at the students to memorize their faces, then left the three simmering in a unanimous state of dissatisfaction as they waited.

Sounds from above startled Dedue and Professor Parvati. They looked up at the low ceiling. There were thuds and scrapes of wooden chairs being rearranged by second-floor patrons. When they went back to staring at each other’s mugs again, Professor Parvati decided to fill the silence.

“Hey, Dedue, what’s with the Dagdan name?”

Dedue started to fill with a sense of dread. “My mother’s adoptive mother was Dagdan,” he said. To Dimitri, he explained, “In Duscur, the family name runs down the maternal line.”

Dimitri raised his brows. “That’s something I didn’t know.”

“So what is your Duscuri name?” Parvati asked. “No way your friends and family called you _Dedue_.”

“They did,” he insisted. He knew where this was going.

“Okay, Dedue Molinaro, but what _is_ your Duscuri name?”

When Dedue told her, Parvati’s hands came down with a slap upon the table. “Dev _DAS_?” She fairly exploded.

People sent startled glances their way. Even second-floor patrons scooted to the ends of their tables to peek over the railing. Dedue shushed the professor, mortified. He was so glad he was on this side of Dimitri. Parvati put her hands together in a prayer position, sending sheepish apologies to patrons staring at them from alcoves on the other side of the stage.

“What? What does that mean?” Dimitri asked, seeing the grin upon her face.

“It means _Servant of God_ ,” Dedue tried to intercept, but Parvati dismissed his explanation with a wave.

“That’s not the important part. [Devdas](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devdas_\(2002_Hindi_film\)) is only the _starring_ role of the most _famous_ [romantic opera](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devdas_\(2002_Hindi_film\)) of all of Duskar!”

Dimitri looked at him with new eyes. “Is that right?”

The Professor Parvati from the first minute they had met her was back. She gushed animatedly with her hands. “It’s a love triangle! And a classic. Devdas goes abroad. He comes back after university. At home awaits [Paro](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpSI1mMD7Sc), his childhood friend and first love. And then — ” She quickly ran the Prince through a brief synopsis, complete with re-enactments of direct lines. “[And she says, Liar! Ten years and five letters?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQBewStMBfw) — which, I have to say, I’m unimpressed — ” 

Prince Dimitri glanced at Dedue with a grin. It was a relief to return to this former Parvati. He was clearly enjoying this.

“ — and her mother was _so offended_ that she married her off to someone else — ”

 _This is bad,_ thought Dedue. The Prince would no doubt use this against him. Just like every single girl in Duscur that Dedue had ever met.

“ — so he is pining away, when he meets [Chandramukhi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QfAFHZ2usIo) — a dancer — ”

The food arrived in the middle of her telling the story. The moment it came, she seemed to have broken out of a trance. She remembered them. “Oh. I must be boring you.”

“No at all, Professor! Keep telling the story,” said Dimitri, swirling the ramen in his Morfisine tan tan men with his chopsticks.

But Parvati was already getting cold again.

“Oh, Professor, don’t be that way,” said Dimitri. “I love seeing you like this. It’s downright _mesmerizing_. I suppose that look on your face is just another boon from this glorious day. Perhaps the best one of all.”

Parvati gave Dedue another look on her face. This look said, _Help._

Dedue looked away and dug into his soup. His Highness had the embarrassing habit of being much too earnest. It had already confused a couple girls. And as He was coming of age, those instances were bound to get worse…

Parvati went back to telling the story, albeit with nowhere near the animation she had a few minutes ago. Dedue wondered if this was going to be the professor’s dynamic. It was clear she hadn’t wanted to be with them. They made Professor Parvati uneasy. The Prince of Faerghus, with a vassal from the country Faerghus had butchered? Why was Dedue with him? Was Dedue a traitor to Duscur then? He knew these thoughts were running through her head. It was obvious in their thirty minutes of silence as they walked to Saleh Mach from the Monastery. By the end, all three of them had been cursing Professor Aelfric. And now, she had remembered them, remembered who they were, and had gone back to being defensive and cold, with barely a light veil over her animosity.

But then he saw the animated Parvati was coming back again. When she finished telling the story, Professor Parvati leaned over the table. “So, Dedue…have you found Paro yet?” She wiggled her brows.

She seemed to have been custom-made for his torture. For the second time in one day, she had made Dedue the center of attention. _Where is Professor Aelfric?_ he wondered, desperate for the Duscuri professor to stop compromising him. The professor and the Prince looked at him until Dedue cleared his throat and said, “No.”

“Are you sure, though? What if she found _you_?”

Another, emphatic “ _No._ ”

The professor clicked her tongue, dissatisfied.

Dedue couldn’t keep up. He already had enough on his plate with His Highness. Dimitri had — moods, and Dedue could tell right away. One look at his face in the morning spelled the weather forecast of _The Day According To Dimitri_.

But Professor Parvati was something else. At least with the Prince, Dedue could expect growls and grumpiness for the whole day. Professor Parvati had the propensity to ricochet off both ends of the Happy-Mad spectrum in the same minute. And her vibrancy, Dedue was learning, went in both directions. Her emotions were a pulsating energy that set the stage for everyone else. Her mood was a part of the setting.

Prince Dimitri turned to Dedue. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this…Devdas?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I am only calling you by your name,” said Dimitri.

“You don’t get to call me that.”

Dimitri gave a sly grin. “But I am your family, and friend.”

Dedue opened his mouth, then closed it, glaring. From across the table, Parvati’s shoulders shook silently. Dedue directed attention away from himself. “How did you come here, Professor?”

Professor Parvati shrugged. “Seteth invited me.”

Dimitri, who was about to take a drink of water, put his glass back down. “Seteth?” he said. “You mean the Viceroy, Seteth?”

She paused. “There are more Seteths?”

“No!” said Dimitri. He exchanged a glance with Dedue. “Are you to tell me you were requested directly by the Viceroy himself?”

She had just stuffed her mouth full, so she nodded. “Five years ago, actually. It’s a surprise they still let me have this position.”

Prince Dimitri regarded her, agape. “You made Seteth wait _five_ years.”

Dedue, too, had stopped eating to process this. She received an invitation? From the Officer’s Academy? From the Church of Seiros? And then she tested the patience of the powers that be? For the Archbishop and Viceroy were the powers that be.

“Why didn’t you come earlier?” Dimitri asked.

Parvati hesitated. “Things…happened.” She glanced at Dedue.

Dedue and Dimitri immediately understood exactly what she meant.

Then she said, “What about you two? How are you here, Dedue? And how did you two meet?”

And so they came to it, the inevitable question. From the way His Highness was looking at him, Dedue knew it would be up to him to answer it. And so he did.

* * *

“It was during the pogroms,” Dedue responded.

Parvati looked up.

“He risked his life to save a foreigner he had never met,” he continued. “The moment he extended his hand, I decided that only for his sake would I live the remainder of my life. And I would cast it aside in an instant if my death were to his benefit.”

Someone somewhere moved their drink. The sound of the ice shifting clacked like bones.

Parvati set her fork down and stared at Dedue. Someone opened the inn door. She could hear the it groaning. She could hear it squeak. The chimes tinkled outside. The woman at the counter was chuckling.

 _Pogroms._ Her brain had slowed to a halt, unable to take more than one word at a time.

 _Pogroms._ The wind had come to whisper in her ear. Her skin erupted in gooseflesh.

 _He was there,_ the words wheeled in her head. _He was_ ** _there_** _. Dedue was_ ** _there_** _._

She opened her mouth. She wanted to ask clarifying questions. Did she… Did she hear him correctly?

_…foreigner he had never met…only for his sake would I…remainder of my life…_

She felt like she was swimming in his words. _Did_ she hear him correctly? These concepts, these ideas — she couldn’t imagine them. She couldn’t have made them up. Even a mishearing would not have formed these sentences in her head.

_…if my death were to his benefit…cast it aside…_

Dedue looked at the Prince, then looked back. He had wide-set eyes. He had downturned lips. He had a severe face. He looked…so much… _older_ than eighteen years old. This was a…student?

Parvati was falling inside of herself. How could Dedue _say_ such a thing? Why would he throw away his life? Especially when they had taken away all other life — everybody else —

_…foreigner he had never met…the moment he extended his hand…_

Someone choosing not to kill Dedue was not equivalent to saving his life. It didn’t merit a reward, performing such a basic act of human decency. It made no sense! He shouldn’t be —

 _…I decided that only for his sake…remainder of my life…_ Dedue didn’t owe him anything! Certainly not his life!

 _…extended his hand…cast it aside…_ Why… _Why_ was Dedue thinking this way? Did it mean _nothing_ that they took away every part of his life?

That they took away every part of _hers_ —

Why would he serve —

The questions raced through her head. She was drowning.

_…if my death were to his benefit…_

Parvati wanted to throw up.

He was the first Duscuri she would be seeing in years, for more than a few hours or a few minutes. Everyone else, they always came and went. Here, at the Officer’s Academy, was one Duscuri student. She was going to have the chance to spend a full _year_ with a Duscuri student. She’d had high hopes. She’d wanted so much from him — from — _someone_ who could understand her grief and sorrow, to remember or regain the things they had lost. She didn’t know until now how much she had wanted from him. But he…he wasn’t…

They were still waiting for her to say something, so she said, “Is that so?”

It came off too much as a challenge. She saw Dedue frown and marked him as a loss for the people of Duscur. She didn’t know what Faerghus had done to him, but he wasn’t her people now. She could feel her heart claw itself out of its place.

Prince Dimitri deflated. He said, “Forgive me…I do not want to bring up foul memories. …But, would you hear what I have to say?”

She couldn’t imagine that she could just up and leave. She especially could not just stand up a prince. And, she was paying for the meal.

Prince Dimitri went on ahead in the ensuing silence. “Professor Parvati… The day my father was killed…I saw the people who did it.”

Parvati’s breath caught.

“They were not of Duscur. I saw that. Knew it, beyond a doubt. The people of Duscur did not commit this atrocity.”

She could feel her windpipe closing.

He said, “It was a third party. …And yet…I was unable to prevent the massacre that followed. Nor could I clear away the dishonor of regicide that has unjustly clung to you and your people! I will not rest until I make up for that. I owe you, just as I owe the spirits of those I let die.”

Parvati stared at him. Her appetite had vanished. Dedue was no longer eating either.

Dimitri looked at her, searching her face. Then he said, “You seem quite unaffected.”

Parvati popped up a brow. “What do you expect me to say?”

“I mean… _something_. Surprise. Shock. Agreement. Disbelief. I have to say professor…you are very hard to read.”

“Nothing you’ve said is shocking, Your Highness.”

Dimitri looked at her, a question on his face.

She put down the fork and knife. “I am a woman of science, Prince Dimitri. I rely on evidence and facts. So I did my own investigation. That’s what I was doing when the Viceroy…” She trailed off, feeling herself falling back into a person that she used to be… She shook her head. “I knew four years ago that there were no Duscuri there, at the time of the incident. The only people there were your people.”

Prince Dimitri’s face clouded over. “Are you suggesting…that someone from _Faerghus…”_

An alarm fired in her head and her heart. She had just glimpsed something ugly on his face. _Tread carefully, Parvati,_ said the voice in the back of her head. So she said, “No, Your Highness. That is not what I am saying.”

“Then what _are_ you saying?” This time, this was asked by Dedue. He had the same look he always did, but his eyes were alive. Intensely.

“I am saying that we _both_ had evidence. That didn’t work out for either one of us, did it?”

Dimitri looked down and began pushing around the egg halves he’d left floating in the broth of his ramen.

Dedue, on the other hand, kept watching her. He wasn’t going to miss a single thing. He tracked her every expression, his impassive face a stone wall.

Parvati stood no chance trying to match his gaze. She looked down. She said, “I sorely wanted to believe…if only I had evidence… I wanted to believe, _No one can argue with the evidence._ ” She looked back up to Prince Dimitri. “But that never mattered. That didn’t matter to the people of Faerghus. Look what your people did to us anyway. Do you know what we are?”

The heat was rising in the small of her back as she said the words: “Collateral damage.”

Dedue’s eyes widened. Dimitri’s chopsticks stopped swirling in the bowl. He looked up.

Parvati swallowed, her eyes glistening. “We were just collateral damage. We weren’t even part of the game.”

Dimitri stared at her silently until he had to blink unbidden tears. He leaned back against the bench, taking a shuddering breath. Beside him, something was happening inside Dedue. He could no longer look at her face. His eyes had fallen down to her hand, where the cup in her hand was shaking.

Dedue took the cup out of her hand. Then, gently, he set it back onto the table.

Parvati laughed softly. What a cool guy. The stone wall provides wordless comfort.

Parvati put her two hands on top of each other, to stop them from shaking. An attempt. She said, “The truth doesn’t matter, Prince Dimitri. Prove me otherwise.”

Dimitri stared into his ramen bowl as Parvati called to the server for the check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. You still hanging in there? Thanks for reading. It took five revisions to get through this pivotal chapter. Let me know if it means anything to you.
> 
> Thank you to my Subscribers and Bookmarkers. I can’t see all of you (since it’s private) but I am flattered and excited and eager to take you along with me on this journey. As for those who are public, thank you to [SuperFulcrum13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperFulcrum13/pseuds/SuperFulcrum13), [Remember_Summer_Days](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remember_Summer_Days/pseuds/Remember_Summer_Days), and [LordTrollbias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordTrollbias/pseuds/LordTrollbias)! 
> 
> Thank you also to [Ashilaa_A03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashilaa_A03/pseuds/Ashilaa_A03), [Minglan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minglan/pseuds/Minglan), and [tastyweeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastyweeds/pseuds/tastyweeds) for the freaking gigantor comments! The engagement I’ve been having in these comments is the most in-depth I’ve ever had for a fan fic. And finally, thank you always to my beta readers, MashPotato2424, Moyou / [@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808?s=20) on Twitter, and kiri / [@royoon_](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQVoKRx/) on TikTok!
> 
> If you wanted to know more about Devdas: [**book** , ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devdas)[**movie**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOPwO6Q1Ho8), [watch it subtitled on Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOPwO6Q1Ho8). Disclaimer: I don't own Devdas. 


	6. The Dark Merchant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the shenanigans BEGIN. 😆 Click on the links to see cool pictures!
> 
> Disclaimer: My Duscur is based heavily on South Asia, but it is a fantasy world, with **a creative-licensed analog** of the customs, cultures, languages and religions. It is **not a direct representation** of any actual countries / cultures / religions.

“Let’s not talk about this again,” said Professor Parvati. She left the alcove first to pay.

Dimitri watched her as she paid for their food, frustration mounting inside of him. He thought, just for a moment, maybe he would find something more about his parents. But if she refused to talk about anything…

When Dimitri first witnessed Professor Parvati, he was overwhelmed. Framed by the sky behind her, with that impassive look on her face, she was at once powerful, haunting and beautiful. He thought he’d seen a glimpse of the Goddess.

 _But the Goddess only watches from above. That is all._ Such were the thoughts of Dimitri on that affair, for he had already learned…that no matter how hard someone begged to be saved, She would never so much as offer Her hand. _And even if She did,_ he thought, _we lack the means to reach out and grasp it._

So why, for even a moment, did he think otherwise with Parvati? Her detached eyes had just passed over him and then she’d disappeared. She’d vanished like a ghost into the tower as his ears rang with bells and horns.

“She is leaving, Your Highness,” Dedue said. “It is dark outside. We should not let her go alone.”

He was right. After the professor had paid for their food, she had turned away. She turned her back on them, the way he should have known she would. She didn’t wait to see if they were following. She walked on.

Dimitri scoffed inside, sliding out from the table and heading towards the exit. This wasn’t a new feeling inside of him. He was always being left behind. He lived in the past, Felix had said, and even Sylvain had said, “Move on.” But no one asked if they _should_ move on, as they did it. And no one ever asked if he could. Dimitri’s life had ended. He was a dead man in the world.

When Dimitri and Dedue exited the [St. Cichol](https://fireemblem.fandom.com/wiki/Seteth) Inn, they found the professor deep in discussion with a man in a mask. Dimitri didn’t actually see the man at first because he was dressed in black and red robes, with a black triangular hood sporting a bird-like bill. Then he saw the rope of skulls hanging down across his waist.

 _A Dark Merchant?_ Dimitri thought. _Why would the professor be involved with…?_

“You said you weren’t going to be here yet,” he heard her saying.

The [Dark Merchant](https://youtu.be/pIgn64XecdM?t=199) had a vivacious tonality, and he sounded much happier to see her than she did him. “I’m just about to return to my trade route. I didn’t know you would be here already. I thought I’d see you next rotation. Look. Let’s go upstairs. I’ve got a room. We can talk up there. I have a message I’m sure you’re dying to hear.”

Parvati gave a sarcastic “Yeaaaaah.” She looked over her shoulder at Dimitri and Dedue. It gave the Prince an opening.

The merchant — or rather, the bird beak — turned to Dimitri and Dedue as they approached. He said, “Parboti, get behind me.”

She shook her head and intoned a “No no no.”

The bird beak pointed at her face. “They _with_ you?”

She nodded. “These are my kids. Well, at least two of them.” She looked up at him. “Ekhane thakte bolbo?” she asked.

Ah. He was from Duscur.

Despite the fallen dark, the merchant managed to see the badge latching Dimitri’s cape. “A _lion_ ,” he scoffed. “Tell me, when have you ever seen a lion? They’re in Almyra, not _Faerghus_.”

Dedue and Dimitri stiffened. The worst part of it was, the professor was laughing at his expense. Dimitri felt heat rising to his face.

She saw the look on his face and put up a coy smile, saying, “Who knows? You might be looking at a Lion right now.”

Dimitri knew she didn’t mean that. A pretense at being contrite.

“And what of you?” The beak trained back onto Parvati. “You can’t be seen with people from Faerghus. What are people going to say?”

“The same things they always say, Sushant. When has what people said affected me?”

“Don’t be stupid. It affects you all the time. Whether or not you want to believe.”

She heaved a great sigh. This was clearly a worn out conversation. “Sushant,” she said, “go ahead and tell me what you’ll say.”

“Chandi is calling. You have to go home. Bishnu is already there.”

Dedue said, “Bishnu?”

Parvati and the merchant glanced at him. Then Parvati also said, “Bishnu?”

The merchant nodded. Then suddenly the things he was saying no longer made sense. Dimitri felt a spark of irritation. The merchant had switched languages. Dimitri whispered over his shoulder, “Dedue, what are they saying?”

Dedue listened for a moment before he translated. “He is saying [Bishnu](https://miro.medium.com/max/4800/1*bW52Gj6UnKkCNmb1-XQ_Lg.jpeg) is [God on Earth](https://www.templepurohit.com/hindu-gods-and-deities/lord-vishnu-hindu-gods-and-deities/). A god amongst men. There are reports that he crossed from North Duscur on foot.”

“North Duscur?” Dimitri said.

“The part of Duscur _not_ controlled by Kleiman,” Dedue explained. “The half in the north.”

“I know what it is,” Dimitri snapped. “But — it’s all ocean between the South and the North. The Narrow Strait. What do you mean he crossed from North Duscur _on foot_?”

“He says he walked on water. Walked on seas like they were dunes.”

Dimitri blinked. Then he said, “So now why is the professor screaming?”

“Because they are talking about her marriage.”

“The professor is married?”

“No. And she is trying not to be.”

Dimitri frowned. “And what does this have to do with — ”

“Hey-ey-ey cham-cha!” the merchant called out to Dedue.

Parvati yelped at him. “ _Sushant!_ ”

“Stop telling him things that are not his business!” the merchant said, pointing.

Parvati pushed down his pointing hand and frantically whispered something to him. Sushant squawked, “ _What!_ ” The bird beak moved comedically back and forth between Dimitri and Parvati. He had just found out who Dimitri was.

Dimitri crossed his arms smugly and stepped forward. He was formally entering the conversation. The Dark Merchant took a step back. He was shorter than Dimitri, and if Dimitri plucked off his pointy hat, he would be even shorter.

“So you’re the prince?” Sushant asked Dimitri.

“Yes.”

“Of Faerghus?”

“Yes.”

Sushant looked at Parvati. “Then this is even _more_ not his business!” he said. He jerked a finger to the ground for emphasis.

Parvati put her hands on his arms to calm him. Then she said, “Listen. This prince. He knows we are not at fault.”

“Oh, does he?”

She nodded. “He even tried to stop it.”

“How?”

Parvati blinked. Then she looked at the prince.

Dimitri flushed. “I was — not successful.”

“Clearly,” Sushant said.

“But he saved me from his brethren,” Dedue inserted.

“Oh, did he now?”

“He has the scars on his back.”

Both Parvati and the merchant went silent, taking that in.

Then Sushant said, “Prove it to me. Strip.”

Dedue and Parvati started. Parvati said, “Su _shant_!”

Dimitri could feel the flush in his cheeks. He did want to hear those words, but not from a man…

Sushant pointed to the inn behind them. “I have a room, Parboti! Don’t you want to check?”

The professor slapped his arm. “I am _not_ going to have a student _strip_ for me at the _St. Cichol Inn_!” she rasped.

Sushant rubbed his arm.

“In any case,” stated Parvati, breathing hard, "you can go tell Bishnu no thanks.”

Sushant glowered. “Do _not_ make light of this.”

She scoffed. “We needed saving five years ago. The Savior God came too late.”

“[Parboti](https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/698550592185001869/), the Gods come down when they are needed.”

“Then I’ll tell [my God](https://www.templepurohit.com/shiva-parvati/) when [He](https://in.pinterest.com/upadhyayraj/lord-shiva/) is needed. Until then, tell Bishnu to stay away.”

Dimitri looked at Dedue. “What does _that_ mean?”

Dedue said, “I’ll tell you later.”

Dimitri glared at him, betrayed.

Parvati said, “Sushant, go home!”

“And what do I say to them? ‘ _Hold on, everyone! Call off the wedding! The bride isn’t coming. Oops!’_ ”

“Look, Sushant, just don’t say anything! Pretend you didn’t see me!”

Sushant crossed his arms. “You think I’ll go to Chandi and outlive a lie?”

Parvati made a noise of frustration and shook him by the shoulders. His pointy hat-mask shook like a Leceister bobblehead until the professor ran out of steam. “Look, Sushant, just…pay her my respects.”

Sushant got quiet right then. Dimitri didn’t know he knew the meaning of quiet. He was impressed.

Then Sushant said, “A lot of people will be disappointed.”

The professor looked at Dimitri and Dedue. “A lot of people already are.”

* * *

When Professor Parvati got back to the mountain road, she looked up at how far they had to go and declared to them, “I’m not going to make it.”

Dimitri followed her gaze. The mountain from Saleh Mach to the monastery was steep. As such, the road built into its face had to zigzag up in a series of switchbacks to make it even possible for carts and caravans to make it up to the summit. It would take multiple miles of zigzagging to get less than half a mile up the mountain.

In a series of _sixteen_ switchbacks, to be exact.

This is what Parvati was looking at as she put her hands on her hips and cursed Aelfric. “I’m just a frail math professor,” she complained. “Who expects me to go up and down something like this? Guy didn’t even show up!”

“We can rent horses,” supplied Dedue.

“I don’t know how to ride a horse,” said the professor.

The students exchanged a glance. “Then how did you get up the first time?” asked Dimitri.

“I was in a carriage, being escorted by the Imperial Army’s Fifth Division.”

Dedue and Dimitri exchanged a glance. What Dedue was taking away from this was that the professor was someone who had been escorted by the Fifth Division of the Imperial Army’s. What Dimitri was remembering was…

On the day he and the Blaiddyd retinue were supposed to be entering the Garreg Mach Monastery, another retinue was traveling down the mountain. Because of the narrow nature of this road, traveling caravans and armies were required to reserve a time for one-way access to this road. But someone somewhere did not get the memo, because an Imperial foot-soldier army met ninety-eight horseback Faerghusi on a two-lane slope of the mountain.

Cue awkward stand-off.

Said stand-off went from awkward to bizarre in ten seconds.

The Faerghusi response — with no room for input from Dimitri — was to play the Faerghusi national anthem, _loudly_. And without pause.

It was unexplainably coordinated. No one knew who had the idea first, and no one knew why, but somehow, within ten seconds, every soldier of the Blaiddyd battalion had their horns out.

The Imperial soldiers were polite. Under orders of their second-in-command, they chose to oblige the Blaiddyd battalion. The foot-soldiers started moving single-file down the mountain, making space for the Faerghusi to proceed up the switchbacks.

The soldiers from Faerghus, on the other hand… Skilled in the art of sword and lance, they wielded their brass instruments right into the faces of the Imperial soldiers. Whether or not these Faerghusi soldiers had ever wanted to learn how to play this horn, they blew their hearts into these notes. They played with the bombastic audacity of knowing that their audience would have no idea if they were playing it wrong.

Decades later, this moment would be voted as _the_ one, most annoying, most passive aggressive martial maneuver ever recorded in Fódlan military history.

Needless to say, the Prince was humiliated.

“It’s all right,” said Parvati. “I’ll just go back and make Sushant pay for a room for me. Though…I know what _he’s_ gonna say when I get there.” She started mimicking him. “Of course you don’t know how to ride a horse. Why would you know something useful like that? Dhuttori!” The rest of Sushant’s extensive list of imagined complaints came out in Bangala, and by the end, Dedue was laughing quietly.

Dimitri smiled. He had rarely seen Dedue laugh. The Prince himself wasn’t known for his sense of humor, so he was no good at making anybody laugh, but the professor coaxed a few laughs out of Dedue already and they hadn’t even known her for a full day.

The Prince said, “You know, Professor… A former teacher of mine, Gustave, used to make me train by carrying rock-filled barrels and boulders up a mountain. I could carry you up, Professor. We’ll call it — some advance training.”

From behind the professor, Dedue was shaking his head.

Parvati said, “Pfft. I don’t believe you.”

And in this way, she ensured this would happen. Dedue facepalmed.

“Oh my Gods! Put me down! _What are you doing?_ ”

“I will show you, Professor. I will _make_ you believe!” The Prince picked up the professor in an awkward princess carry, and tossed her slightly up in the air to readjust his grip. He then said,“I enjoy a challenge, so not only will I carry you up, I will do it in one trip, without putting you down. I will show you Blaiddyd strength!”

Dedue facepalmed again, adding his other hand to his first one on his head.

“This is — completely unnecessary!”

“Your Highness, please put her down.”

“My legs are working perfectly fine! I can walk!"

“Your Highness, this is going to take almost an hour.”

“Prince Dimitri, I demand that you put me down this instant!”

“Your Highness, it is harder to go up than down.”

The Prince tossed the professor slightly higher in the air, making her scream, and grinned smugly when she quieted. He started up the switchbacks. His vassal sighed in defeat and followed along.

They were a quarter of the way up the switchbacks by the time the professor relented and relaxed in his arms. She said, “Dedue, is he always like this?”

Dedue said yes.

They went up one more switchback when Professor Parvati said, “Oww. My hair.”

Dedue had to pull her braid out from where it had caught on Dimitri’s belt.

They were halfway up when Professor Parvati said, “You don’t have to do this. You’ve proved your point. Most people can’t even manage to get halfway.”

Prince Dimitri said, “I can do this.”

Dedue added, “Your Highness, this is not a task of strength. This is endurance.”

“I can do this, Dedue!”

The Prince was, however, feeling it in his thighs. He couldn’t talk anymore. He had to focus on his breathing, and he wasn’t sure his knees would stay locked in the correct place. He was also feeling it in his lower back. He was just glad it wasn’t as cold as Faerghus dawn, where the very air he breathed felt like it was cutting through the insides of his nose and his throat and behind his eyes.

Parvati marveled at how far they had come. The crown of mountains around them were pitch black silhouettes, but the rising moon managed to put a silver outline to the road they were on. Saleh Mach glittered like [Fhirdiad](https://fireemblem.fandom.com/wiki/Fhirdiad). Dimitri couldn’t see all of this. He just kept moving forward.

By the time he was three quarters up the switchbacks, he was dramatically slowing. It was his right foot’s back tendon that noticed it most: these last switchbacks, was there an increase in the incline? Did they truly make the _last_ set of switchbacks steeper than the rest? This was tougher than he anticipated. His thighs were screaming, and his shoulders and arms ached from being in one position too long. He didn’t think it would be appropriate to throw the professor over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes though, so he didn’t say anything.

“Your Highness,” Dedue said, noting Dimitri was struggling. He offered to take the professor from here.

“Or — I could walk,” reminded Parvati. “I’m not injured, remember? This is completely unnecessary. And I am sufficiently rested. This does not need to happen.”

Dimitri was too tired to say no, but when Dedue started moving closer to take her, Dimitri started moving in the opposite direction and emitted angry grunts.

Dedue was right. This was a test of endurance. Even though he’d trained with things much heavier, he certainly allowed himself to set his weights down regularly. But now, he didn’t dare stop for even a second. If his legs stopped now, he feared they would not start moving again.

Professor Parvati was looking at him. “Looks like I can’t stop you, so I guess I’ll get out of the way.”

Dimitri scoffed and said, “You…just…figured…out?”

Parvati grinned. “Come on! You got this far! You can do the rest! Dedue! Push him!”

Dimitri chuckled as Dedue leant his strength. He felt Dedue’s hands land on his back and push him forward. The task was lighter with the help of a friend.

Then Professor Parvati said, “Three more switchbacks! By the Gods, if you _do_ make it to the top, Prince Dimitri, you will be a god amongst men.”

That did something for Dimitri. He came to a stop.

Parvati looked alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re going to do it, Professor. Hold onto me.” It was a command.

Parvati linked her hands behind his neck, witnessing his resolve. She grinned. “We’re almost there, Prince Dimitri.”

He nodded. “We are.”

She hoisted herself up. It was a huge relief to his arms. Dimitri focused his second wind on driving his legs.

“Keep going, Your Highness,” Dedue said, smiling when they started to see the outer wall of the marketplace. The guards from two switchbacks up had spotted them.

“I can’t believe you’re doing it,” Parvati added. “I can’t wait to tell Manuela. And Hanneman. They’re going to be like, ‘Wow!’”

Dimitri chuckled. Through the searing pain. That was a mistake. It made things worse, but he didn’t care. He was sensing victory, jubilant.

As he went on, the professor got louder and louder. The two guards from the gate, overhearing, came to the edge and looked down over them as Dimitri passed underneath in the second to last switchback.

“You’re doing it! You’re doing it! Let’s go, Dimitri! Go go go! Aaaaah ha ha haa!!!” said the professor.

The guards, quickly gathering what was happening, started raising their pikes and bouncing up and down as they were hollering, “Almost there! Almost there! One more corner, Your Highness! One more corner!”

When Dimitri turned the final corner, with only the road to the gate to go, there were more guards at the gate. “What’s going on?” he heard them say. One of the guards was pointing and explaining. Within seconds, they also joined into a seamless cheerleading battalion. “You can do it! You can do it! A hundred feet! You can do it!”

Dimitri picked up his stride. One foot in front of the other.

At fifty feet, he could hear himself breathing.

At forty, there was Parvati’s glowing eyes and beaming face as she pointed him forward.

At thirty, Dedue’s strong, warm, solid hands pushing from behind him.

At twenty, he almost dropped the professor. She had gone completely hysterical, bouncing in his arms in excitement.

“Oh my Gods! Oh my Gods! Ten! Nine! Eight!” Some more squeals. “You are almost there! Three! Oh my _Gods_ , Dimitri!”

She was all squeals when she jumped out of his arms. Dimitri had brought her right to the gate of the marketplace, where they were enclosed by a circle of Monastery guards.

“I…did it,” said Prince Dimitri, falling to his knees. All of the exhaustion came to hit him in one collective blow. He landed with his hands in the gravel, dizzy.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Parvati’s boots hopping as she exclaimed to whoever would hear it. “Did you see that? Did you _see_?” she asked, violently shaking some random guard by the shoulders.

Dedue kneeled beside Dimitri. “Your Highness.”

“I’m fine,” said Dimitri, turning to smile.

“You did it, Dimitri! You did it!”he heard Parvati squealing. He looked up now, to see Parvati’s ecstatic form framed against the sky. She threw her arms out like wings. “Prince Dimitri, a god amongst men!”

His heart exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! Be on the lookout for more shenanigans; Claude and Hilda are coming up next!
> 
> Thank you so much to my commenters, [tastyweeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastyweeds/pseuds/tastyweeds), [Ashilaa_A03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashilaa_A03/pseuds/Ashilaa_A03), and [Inkbrush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkbrush/pseuds/Inkbrush)! And thanks always to my beta readers, Moyou / [@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808?s=20) on Twitter, and kiri / [@royoon_](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQVoKRx/) on TikTok!
> 
> **Edit 2/1:**
> 
> Hoping to get you the next chapter as soon as possible! Just trying to keep Hubert at bay. He wants to do things. It's already forced me to trash 12 pages of written scenes, outlines and notes in one day. So...whenever he decides to start behaving... (glares at him) Bad Hubert! Bad! Stay!
> 
> In the meanwhile, if you like Flayn, you can check out an excerpt of what kind of trouble she gets into later in [Our Little Secret](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28411527):
> 
>  _The Earl and His Pearl. Love Vainglorious. The Almyran Tyrant Surprise. Duscur Luster. Five Days in Nuvelle._  
>  Flayn and Professor Parvati get involved in a particular type of contraband: romance novels. 
> 
> I was smiling the entire time I was writing this. Flayn plays a huge part in my long fic, and this is the beginning of the Flayn saga. Flayn is chaos and I love her.


	7. Waiting for a Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeelllooooooooo. I still exist!
> 
> Oh my _goodness_!!! So many commenters and readers since the last chapter! (Sorry for the delay.) There is _so much_ I want to say I am overwhelmed!!! Thank you _so much_ to:
> 
>   * [Seether00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seether00/pseuds/Seether00) and [lyraonfira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyraonfira/pseuds/lyraonfira) for their comments! Sometimes I get worried it’s just the same six people reading it + 300 hits of just me checking obsessively. 🤣😭 So for every new person who drops me a line or just “hi!” to let me know you exist ~ thank you!!!
>   * [Inkbrush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkbrush/pseuds/Inkbrush) and [Remember_Summer_Days](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remember_Summer_Days/pseuds/Remember_Summer_Days) for always being there! 🥰
>   * [tastyweeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastyweeds/pseuds/tastyweeds) for the most _marvelous_ rendition of a heartwarming Dedue’s family I have read yet! 😍
>   * [Ashilaa_A03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashilaa_A03/pseuds/Ashilaa_A03) for being with me since the beginning and really empowering me to bring in a South Asian richness to Duscur! ❤️
>   * [Dragoncat (Dragoncat1991)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoncat1991/pseuds/Dragoncat) for an unfailing and astounding amount of enthusiasm and humor both in writing and in all interactions I’ve had. It’s been a _lot_ of laughs! 😆
>   * and last but certainly not least, [Satelesque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satelesque/pseuds/Satelesque), who is single-handedly responsible for shifting my sleeping time up two hours because they left comments late at night and I told myself I cannot read them yet, I have to sleep, and then I read them anyway, and then I didn’t sleep. Cough. Yes. Totally their fault. 🤣
> 

> 
> And now, with no further delay… Since I promised some Claude & Hilda. XD

“Greetings, Catherine Thunderbrand! Nothing to report!” was not the way Catherine wanted to be greeted the night she found the Prince of Faerghus unconscious at the gates of the Monastery.

The first thing she had heard was the commotion. The first thing she had seen was the ring of guards. And the first time she laid eyes on that man of Duscur — that behemoth hulk, that bear — crouching over the body of the Prince, Catherine’s hand went straight to her blade.

What was this man of Duscur doing to the Prince? Or rather — what had he already done?

The sound of the world fell around her as she pressed with her hand into the crowd. It took a gentle push at the shoulder and a sweep of the arm to move one guard this way, one guard that, as her sword the Thunderbrand came alive in its scabbard, crackling with red lightning in her right hand. Other guards looked over their shoulders at her, some surprise interrupting their merry faces as she parted through the lot of them.

She took a deep breath in, the sound of her breath magnified in her ears as she began summoning the Crest of Charon. The world sank into a slowing. She could hear the Thunderbrand whine.

Then, something tugged at her. It pulled from behind. Catherine broke out of her trance, the power of her Crest dissolving as she looked back.

Coming out of a Crest summons was like rising back out of water. It took a moment to focus upon the woman tugging Catherine’s left hand. It came to her slowly. Parvati. Parvati was already in the middle of telling her something, though the knight couldn’t hear her over the whine in her ears from the Crest summoning.

Catherine caught the tail end, though, as Parvati said, “That kid is such a silly! You should have seen it.” The beaming professor leaned around Catherine to holler at someone behind her. “Hey! Dedue! Carry him. I’ll explain along the way.”

Catherine followed Parvati’s gaze, saying, “What?”

“This is Dedue!” said Professor Parvati. “He is a vassal to the Prince. Dedue, say hi!”

The man of Duscur responded. He said, “Hi.”

Catherine’s eyes flew up to his face. _Whoa,_ she thought. Her stomach dropped. Now she saw the OA uniform. Now she saw the pin of Faerghus. If she had struck this Duscuri man…what would she have said to the Prince?

Meanwhile, Dedue tossed the Prince over his shoulder with ease.

“Can you lead us to the student dorms?” Parvati said, talking to Catherine again.

Catherine looked at the professor bouncing on the balls of her feet. Why was this professor so _happy_ all the time? When Catherine nodded, the professor gave an exaggerated bow with a hand stretched out to the Garreg Mach Monastery.

“Ladies first!” said Professor Parvati.

The guards started dispersing as Catherine led the way. The world was crisp again, and Catherine could feel the sharp, icy wind biting at the tips of her ears again. A light breeze swept over her neck and down her collar. The professor had taken out another one of her lights, hurrying after Catherine and clicking it on to light the way. They followed the stream of light, past the fishing pond, past the greenhouse. Through all of it, Catherine glanced back constantly to check on Dedue. The student of Duscur said nothing as the professor of Duscur chattered non-stop.

“So that’s what happened,” said Catherine when Parvati finished recounting the trek back up the mountain. “Yeah, don’t bother with Aelfric. He says he’ll be there, but he really won’t.”

As she was saying this, Catherine’s thoughts raced in a loop like a snake eating itself. Was it a danger to let these Duscuri people know where the students lived? But then, one was a professor — and the other was a student.

Dedue finally said something as they were arriving at the dorms. He said, “The Prince is on the second floor.”

_So he already knows where Prince Dimitri lives,_ thought Catherine. Which meant she wasn’t going to be able to hide the Prince from him. In any case, it didn’t even make sense for Dedue to not know. Dedue was his vassal. She could not tamp down her unease.

_I don’t get it,_ she thought as Parvati beside her skipped forward to hold open the door for them. _How did he choose a man of_ ** _Duscur_** _to be his vassal?_ She didn’t have the chance to ask any questions, however, because the trio was met halfway down the hall by a pair of students.

“Ooooh! Who is _that_?” asked the kid with the yellow cape draped over his shoulder. He was pointing at the Prince.

“Ooooh! Nice butt!” said the pink-haired girl beside him, pointing at the same.

Behind her, Dedue started. Catherine flushed too. Prince Dimitri was slung over Dedue’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Neither had taken into account how inelegant the situation was for the Prince.

“Who are _you_?” Dedue said with a glower.

“I thought you would never ask!” said Kid Yellow-Cape. “I — am Claude von Riegan,” he announced with flourish.

“And I — am Hilda Valentine Goneril!” said Miss Pink-Hair, mirroring his moves.

“And we are — ” — they linked arms together — “ — the Golden Deer!” They posed.

“Oh-ho-ho my Go-ho-hods!” Catherine heard Parvati titter behind her.

“We’ll be the ones defeating you in the Mock Battle!” announced Hilda.

“And you’ll get an ass-kicking at Gronder Fields!” declared Claude, pointing.

“It’s decided already!” said Hilda. “Because the Golden Deer — ”

“ — are _golden_!” Claude finished.

“Feeeeear the Deeeeeer!” Hilda added, complete with hissing noises.

Catherine and Dedue, both Blue Lions, stared at the strange pair, then proceeded to walk wordlessly around them.

_So_ ** _this_** _is the future of the Leceister Alliance,_ thought Catherine. Claude was the future Archduke, the leader of the whole Alliance. Hilda was of the noble House Goneril, which defended the Leceister Alliance’s eastern border against Almyra.

“Hey!” they heard Hilda snap. “You didn’t tell us _your_ names!”

“We even did the whole show!” said Claude.

“It was a lot of _work_ , you know!” said Hilda.

The two followed Catherine and Dedue to the end of the intimate, dimly lit hallway, Hilda saying, “Who are you, anyway? Are you even supposed to be in these halls? You look _way_ too old.”

Catherine was twenty-eight. She spun on her heels. “Okay, little girl — ” she started. She stopped midway to squint at the professor. Parvati had not even made it halfway down the hallway. She was staring with her jaw dropped at the name placard beside one particular door.

Parvati, realizing the others were looking at her, pointed at the placard. “This room is Lady _Edelgard’s_!” she said. Lady Edelgard was the future Empress of Adrestia, making her Parvati’s sovereign. Parvati shook her hands at it reverently like she had just discovered the mother lode.

“Parvati, get over here,” Catherine ordered. She sighed. This professor was such a tourist.

When they opened the Prince’s door, Claude and Hilda were the first to file in.

“Hey! Why are _you_ in there?” Catherine demanded.

“Huh. This looks exactly like my room,” said Claude, taking in the bed, study table, carpet, windows, bookcase and the giant chandelier on the ceiling.

“So _boring_ ,” said Hilda.

“It’s even got the same books!” Claude reported from the bookcase.

“ _Soooooo_ boring,” said Hilda.

Catherine looked around. _Now_ where was Parvati?

The Knight of Seiros stepped back into the hallway. Parvati had barely made it two more doorways down the hallway. She pointed frantically at this one’s placard as well. “This one says _Bergliez_!”

Catherine rolled her eyes. The name Bergliez on that placard meant that that student was related to Randolph, Parvati’s lover. That room must have been for Caspar, the second son of the Adrestian War Minister. Caspar was Randolph’s…step-nephew, did Randolph say?

“Parvati, _get over here_ ,” Catherine commanded again.

By the time Catherine saw what Dedue was doing, the Prince was already being tucked into bed. His boots were placed at the bedposts. His blue House Leader cape was slung from the back of a chair. He was rolled to his side, his face sinking into pillows that had been plumped, and Dedue was pulling the blue quilt with the diamond pattern up to his chin. 

“Whoa. This room is even bigger than the triple I shared with my college dorm mates!” the professor said as she finally wandered in. “Wow! Is this a party in here?’

“Who is _this_ lady?” asked Hilda, coming up to Parvati with her hands on her hips.

“That’s our math professor,” Claude responded.

“ _Eww_ ,” Hilda responded instinctively. “I mean — ”

_Hah!_ thought Catherine. She felt much the same.

Professor Parvati leveled Hilda with a look. “I’m going to remember this.”

“H-Hey! I’m — I’m sorry. I just — have _no_ head for mathematics,” said Hilda. “Like. Nothing. Zip. So…don’t have any expectations for me.”

“Okay, Helga.”

“My name is _Hilda_.”

“Okay, Hilda.”

Claude had taken a spot next to Dedue at the Prince’s bed. “Awwww. The Prince is sleeping. Isn’t he cute?”

“Like a baby,” said Hilda. She and Parvati joined alongside Claude.

“He’s completely tuckered out,” said Parvati, smiling. “Awwww, iz a Baby Blaiddyd.”

Catherine and Dedue exchanged a glance. Parvati had sunk into baby-talk voice. She didn’t see it, but her words lit Claude’s eyes as he gave Hilda a nefarious grin.

Things were not going in a good direction.

Dedue said, “If the Prince ever hears, he will personally throw every one of us out the window.”

Parvati dismissed his woes with a wave. “Oh, come on, Dedue. He wouldn’t be _so_ dramatic.”

She was wrong. She would find out later, of course, along with Catherine, but she was wrong. For now, Dedue could do nothing more than give her a look. Unfortunately, the look on his face looked like almost every other look on his face: pretty blank.

“Speaking of windows, where are the curtains?” Parvati asked, pointing.

Catherine realized Parvati was looking at _her_. She said, “ _I’m_ not in charge of curtains.”

“Well, _somebody_ is,” said Parvati. “Are you telling me the Prince of Faerghus slept without curtains yesterday?”

There was a moment of silence. Then Dedue said, “I have no curtains as well.”

Parvati exploded. “Is this the _Officer’s Academy_? Is this really how we treat our children?”

“I’m not a _children_ ,” snapped Hilda, as Claude and Dedue gave Parvati a resounding “SSSSSHHHhhhhh!” Then she was immediately escorted out of the room. Catherine could hear her still going on and on, her voice fading as she wandered back down the hallway. After successfully kicking Claude and Hilda out, and then Dedue, Catherine checked the windows. Made sure they were locked. Damn. The professor was right. No privacy. This was way too vulnerable. She’d have to report to Seteth…

On her way out, Catherine stopped to take a look at the Prince. She had imagined a different circumstance in which she would reintroduce herself to him. He was, after all, the future King of Faerghus. In another life, she would have sworn loyalty to him. The last time they had spoken, she was still Cassandra Thunderstrike, of House Charon, of Faerghus. That was over a decade ago.

She gave a lopsided grin. What had she said the first time she had seen him? _Look at that young maiden, wielding that_ ** _giant_** _lance! How_ ** _adorable_** _!_ She had been thrown off by his haircut, that was all. It was a _bowl_ cut.

Now that she looked at him, however, she realized she hadn’t actually yet seen his face. He was facedown when he’d collapsed, and then he was facedown when Dedue had hoisted him up. And now… Catherine stepped closer, her shadow coming over the blue quilt as she examined him. He had a jawline now…and he needed a shave.

_Wow,_ thought Catherine. _Looks like that pipsqueak is finally growing up, just a little bit._

She flipped the lock on his door and closed it for him.

In the hallway, Catherine let herself take a deep breath. The Prince was safe. She had met his Duscuri vassal. And… And thankfully she hadn’t killed him. This last note was something she shoved immediately into the back of her head. She could still feel the tinge of a muted horror, as the thought came unbidden again. What would she have said to the Prince?

She was so deep in these thoughts, she didn’t realize Parvati and Dedue were standing at the end of the hallway until she came upon them. She was surprised to see them still there.

“Time to tuck Baby Devdas into bed!” chirped Parvati as Catherine approached.

“Baby what?” asked Catherine.

“Forget it,” said Dedue, shaking his head.

Catherine followed the two down the stairs, realizing, her response should have been: “What? Why?” _Do I have to do this?_ she wondered. They had delivered the Prince. That was…pretty much where she had expected to part with them. Back out in the cold, she trailed behind them reluctantly, eavesdropping on their conversation. Dedue’s voice was too low for Catherine to hear, but the professor’s voice carried enough in the space between the dorms and the dining hall for Catherine to guess.

“Where is your jacket? Where are your gloves? You need a hat. …I don’t care if you got accustomed to Faerghus. The hat is what’s important. …So. You want to be a _taku bell_ instead? You are going. To go. Bald! …Your hair is like my father’s. If you don’t wear a hat, it will go like my father’s as well. _Taku bell!_ ”

_Huh,_ thought Catherine, allowing herself a small smile. It was starting to look like Dedue’s hair was more important to Parvati than to Dedue himself. Dedue’s silver hair was the type that stood up straight, even when it was an inch-and-a-half off of his head. It shone white in the moonlight, like Parvati’s, and was longer in the back. If it wasn’t bound in the small ponytail, it would probably go down the back of his neck.

Catherine swallowed. If the Thunderbrand had come away into her hand…she would have aimed for that neck.

_“_ No!” retorted Parvati. “Your hair is like my father’s! You have to take care of it!”

Catherine’s heart constricted as she listened to the carefree tone of Parvati’s voice. She gritted her teeth and picked up her pace.

Dedue’s room was on the first floor, second-to-last from the very end, which meant it was right beneath Dimitri’s. Unlike the second floor dorm rooms, which were all connected to one central hallway, the first floor rooms opened directly outwards instead. Catherine and Parvati walked him to his room. Dedue seemed more surprised by this than anything.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said to the professor.

“It’s been a long day,” Parvati responded. “But all we have to do now is say good night.”

Dedue regarded her for a moment. Then he bowed to both Parvati and Catherine, his golden earring glinting in the moonlight. He said, “Thank you, for this day.”

Professor Parvati bowed back. “A mother’s blessings, for this night.”

Catherine looked back and forth between them. This seemed to be some kind of ritual. Then she realized the two of them were waiting for something, so Catherine bowed as well and said, “Uhhhh…yeah… Good night.”

She could feel the blood rushing to her face. Whatever this was, she’d completely botched it.

Dedue entered his room. Parvati and Catherine strolled to the other side of the courtyard. At the end of the grass pathway, Catherine heard Parvati’s footsteps stop. The professor was standing there, silently looking back the way they came. Catherine waited for Parvati to say something, to laugh or whine or crack some stupid joke, but her teal eyes glowed, unsmiling. In this way, the Prime Knight of Seiros and the Professor of Ancient Technology stood side-by-side, their watchful eyes fixed on the same thing. A gibbous moon crawled up the sky behind them.

The professor spoke at last. “Thank you, Catherine.”

Catherine felt something cool drop into her stomach, like a tear drop of ice from her heart. She hesitated. “For…what?”

There was a moment of silence. “For keeping us safe.”

Catherine felt the knot in her stomach tighten. If she’d had just had one more second, one more second today for her Crest to unite with her sword…then she could have made the second-worst mistake of her life. The only thing that stopped her today was — she looked up — Parvati. It was Parvati who had taken her hand. If there was one person who had kept someone safe today, it was Parvati, not her. Not Catherine.

Catherine was beginning to feel sick. “You… You really don’t need to thank me for tonight.”

But when Professor Parvati turned to her, she had that bumbling smile again. “But I do! Because, ah, heh heh…” She scratched her head. “It’s pretty dark, isn’t it? Uhhh…how do I get back to my apartment?’

* * *

Parvati knew how to get back to her apartment. Garreg Mach wasn’t Enbarr, a sprawling collection of mini-cities that kept expanding until it became one monolithic metropolitan center. This was a baker’s dozen of buildings. Certainly, the towers were taller than any found within Enbarr’s skyline — no one in the Imperial Capitol was allowed to build higher than the Imperial Palace — but even then, the bulk of the Knights of Seiros was housed in Saleh Mach. Only elite officers were offered a place within the Monastery, and among them, more than three-fourths chose to be with their retinues anyway: ready to leave at a moment’s notice, ready to intercept in time for Garreg Mach to receive notice, and within easy access of all of the amenities afforded to one in only the finest cities. This left the Garreg Mach Monastery housing less than two hundred people in the Monastery, to Enbarr’s eye-popping half million.

So, no; Parvati was not going to get lost here. But Catherine ate up the excuse, and walked her back to the Faculty Hall. Parvati gave a bright smile when the knight gestured to the staircase, saying, “Ladies first,” and tugged her cloak in tightly about herself, trying to keep herself from sprinting up the four flights. It was a good move; her newly nauseous stomach probably couldn’t handle it. She was so done she was so done she was so _done_.

Since the moment she saw Catherine, Parvati’s every move was calculated — giving the knight a cheerful reception, telling Dedue to say hi, chattering the whole way to the student dorms. Why? Because she saw the look on Catherine’s face, the moment the knight first saw Dedue. The way her hand reached subconsciously for the blade at her hip.

No. Parvati knew before then. Parvati had known from the very first moment she had laid eyes on Catherine.

Enemies at first sight. They were not friends.

The only thing for which she could truly thank Catherine — was for the fact that the knight had made it plain. It was on her face; the Prime Knight of Seiros couldn’t keep anything off of it. That meant it would not be a latent surprise to Parvati. There was no guesswork, and she would not have to be shocked.

She would not be betrayed.

Which was why, from the moment she saw Catherine, Parvati immediately slid into a practiced series of movements. Giving the knight a cheerful reception, stepping in between her and Dedue while she was telling Dedue to say hi, chattering the whole way to the student dorms to keep the tension low, to keep the knight distracted. It was active work to keep herself between them as they walked. They were both taller than she was, with bigger strides. Somehow, the weight of Prince Dimitri over his shoulder did nothing to slow down Dedue, so Parvati found herself almost jogging. She hated jogging. And all throughout it, she could see Catherine checking Dedue right over Parvati’s own head.

Stupid tall people.

That was when the nausea hit, without half a hint of warning, and in great force. Parvati was lucky to have just made it up the student dorm stairs. When those two chatterbox students appeared, she felt like they’d been a godsend. She decided it would be safe to let Catherine and Dedue go on to the Prince’s room without her, while she leaned a hand against the hallway to try to steady herself and gauge how many seconds or minutes she had within her before she threw up whatever the hell she ate at the St. Cichol Inn.

What had done it? Was it the change in altitude that had her feeling this way? Perhaps her stomach decided it did not like to be rocked up the mountain? It would have been better to walk the whole way? Whatever was making her nauseous, she was certain the two girls whose dorm rooms were at this end of the hallway wouldn’t appreciate it if she hurled right in front of their doorways. The placards said _Ingrid_ and _Marianne_.

Yeah, this was not how she wanted to start those relationships.

“Hey! You didn’t tell us _your_ names!” she heard the Golden Deer girl say to Catherine.

“Yeah! We even did the whole show!” said the Golden Deer boy.

Parvati started feeling a little better — surprisingly better, actually — and saw the signs to the communal bathrooms at the other end of the hall. It would be extremely embarrassing to have to run past everybody if she had to…ugh…so she followed them.

For about ten steps. Then, like a wave, the nausea returned again. She couldn’t remember much of what happened after that. She was mostly occupied with figuring out how to not throw up on Catherine, how to not throw up on — Hilda? Or was it Helga? — how to not throw up on the Prince as he was sleeping. The hallway was a mercy to her, to get her away from all the other activity.

By the time Dedue had come down the hallway, Parvati was feeling better again. He found her standing erect at the end of the hallway, with her arms crossed.

“Good night, Professor,” he said as he passed her.

Parvati said, “Hold on, Dedue. Wait.” She wasn’t about to let him walk around at night without an escort. Not in this place, where the people didn’t know him.

The hilarious thing, the amazing irony that Parvati was trying to stomach here, was the fact that the very person she had stepped in to protect him from — was also the best escort for Dedue in the Monastery. The Prime Knight of Seiros: Catherine Thunderbrand.

Tonight, an unknown Duscuri man had been able to walk from the marketplace to the student dorms with the _limp body_ of the _Prince of Faerghus._ They made it to the student dorms. They were not approached by anyone. There were no questions. This was only possible because of one person. 

That person wasn’t Parvati. It was Catherine.

Now, if Dedue and Parvati exited…this was not guaranteed.

Dedue stood looking at Parvati. She realized he was waiting for her to speak. In the ensuing silence, however, he realized what she had really meant: _wait_.

There was a good cold wind coming up the stairs, to keep her stomach calm. She stood there enjoying it, examining the ornate pattern on the carpet as she rehearsed her next line again and again, the line she would say when Catherine came back: _Time to tuck Baby Devdas back into bed!_

That was when Dedue said something that left her utterly gobsmacked. He asked, “Are we waiting for your friend?”

She was so thrown, Parvati stared up at him. _Friend?_ she thought. Did she and Catherine look like…friends?

Which was why, when at last Parvati was fishing for her keys outside her apartment, and Catherine told her to take care of herself, Parvati turned to her and said, “What?”

The Knight of Seiros put a hand on her hip as she said, “Shamir and I are going to be out for a while. Church of Seiros business. We won’t be back until Orientation. So in the meanwhile…” She had that kind of look like she was hoping Parvati wouldn’t make her say it.

So, of course, Parvati made her say it. “What?”

Catherine cleared her throat and looked around. “Well, uhh… Well, I won’t be around, so… So you’ll have to keep an eye out for yourself. And…for Dedue.” By the end, her eyes had returned to Parvati again.

Parvati stared at Catherine for a moment. And then her eyes widened.

It took Catherine by surprise as well. She cleared her throat. She itched her nose. Then, again, she cleared her throat.

This was the first time Parvati was getting a good look at Catherine. The Faerghus blue double-iris, the red seal of Seiros stamped on the chest plate, the leather necklace cord Parvati had only ever seen on men. Now she saw the long lashes, the dark angled brows, the bulging right arm — like Randolph’s — because it was Catherine’s weapon-wielding dominant arm.

_Well, I won’t be around, so you’ll have to keep an eye out for yourself. And…for Dedue,_ Catherine had said. Parvati tried to gauge the knight. Was she serious? Was Catherine deciding to be her friend?

Parvati found her key, inserted it into the door, and gave a little groan, covering her mouth with her other hand and leaning into the door again as the nausea came back.

“Hey! Are you okay?” Catherine stepped forward.

Parvati shook her head. “I don’t know why…I just…sudden nausea…”

Catherine’s eyes lit up with recognition and she took a big step back. “You were walking on my right side this whole time, weren’t you?”

Parvati blinked.

Catherine tapped the sword at her belt. “It’s because of Thunderbrand. It releases a type of energy that…well, you will want to be compatible with. I’ve got the Crest of Charon, so I don’t get affected, but everyone else…”

That’s why Catherine was standing with her left shoulder to Parvati, putting the Thunderbrand as far as she could from her as she spoke over her shoulder. It was making sense now. Randolph had told her, Catherine had a Holy Relic, a special weapon that only people with the right Crest could wield. But Randolph hadn’t mentioned that to everyone else, there would be such immediate side effects, even outside of combat.

Catherine said, “Long story short, just don’t stand near my right side again. Or walk along it.” She scratched her nose. “Sorry about that…”

“Oh,” said Parvati. “That explains it. I’m glad to know what it is then. Thank you.” She thought back again to what Dedue had said, then added, “Be safe, Catherine. I’ll be waiting for you.”

The Prime Knight’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Yeah. Okay,” said Catherine.

They stared at each other for another moment. Catherine was starting to turn red. The air between them filled with the sound of the intermittent crackle of Thunderbrand. At long last, Parvati opened her door and slipped into her apartment, then closed the door, listening. It took a couple moments, but she eventually heard footsteps retreating as Catherine departed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge huge thank you to my beta readers, Moyou / [@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808?s=20) on Twitter, and kiri / [@royoon_](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQVoKRx/) on TikTok! Aaaand my boo, for listening to me read off passages at one in the morning. Puhuhuhuuuu!
> 
> See you back for more shenanigans soon!


	8. Fear the Deer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UUWWWAAAAAHHH I GOT MORE FAN ART FOR PARVATI SQUEEEEEEE! You’ll see it below. This one is by [@hearingoff](https://www.instagram.com/hearingoff/). Thank youuu!!!!! It made me sooooo happpyyyyyyyy! 🥰👏🏾😍🎉 💃🏾 💃🏾 💃🏾
> 
> Thanks also to commenters [Ashilaa_A03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashilaa_A03/pseuds/Ashilaa_A03), [Satelesque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satelesque/pseuds/Satelesque), and [Dragoncat (Dragoncat1991)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoncat1991/pseuds/Dragoncat) for the lovely comments, and to [Dragoncat (Dragoncat1991)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoncat1991/pseuds/Dragoncat) and [summer164](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summer164/pseuds/summer164) for the bookmarks! Squee!!! And to a Guest for their Kudo! Every click counts! It’s these interactions that keep me motivated!
> 
> Enjoy the next chapter! :) Question to all: I’ll make the chapters as long as they need to be, but do you prefer longer or shorter chapters? What tends to be your preferred page count? Thanks, peeps!
> 
> * * *

* * *

When Catherine’s footsteps retreated, Parvati let go of the breath she had been holding.

She was back. She had made it.

Time for some self-care.

She threw open all the windows. On the balcony, she breathed in the scent of pine. The clouds moving over the moon cast their shadows over the great courtyard expanse, so she couldn’t see what lay between her building and the residential complex across, only that it was twice as tall, with winking flame dot flickers in the windows.

To the right of her balcony was Manuela’s. How delightful! They could just come out and chat right here, be it evening or morning or night. How much fun, how much more intimate! After all, everything was different in the moonlight or a morning breeze. There was only so much that could be said in the stale walls of an office. Or maybe they’d listen in on someone else talking, in an upstairs or downstairs balcony, lounging in the intimate moments of unseen strangers.

Back in her apartment, she dropped her cloak onto the back of one of the chairs. The apartment was cooling down rather quickly. It would make for easy sleeping tonight. She had her work cut out for her though. The walls were still blank, and the floor was cluttered with boxes and suitcases. The parakeets were chirping way past their bedtime. She put a cloth over them, shushing them, then wandered to the kitchen.

This kitchen was a marvel, so much wider than the one in her Enbarr apartment. And much bigger, actually. Despite making professor in Enbarr, she had never moved out of her grad student apartment. She was hardly ever home anyway, so the narrow space in the kitchen didn’t matter much. Or, at least, that was what Parvati had believed. She put her hands on her hips, appraising it. Now that she had this kind of kitchen, she realized, maybe she _wouldn’t_ have resorted to the cafeteria all those years.

And now for the true test: she turned on the tap and felt a rush of relief. The hot water was actually working…unlike her kitchen in Enbarr. Dear gods! Did she live like a pleb? All those years! So entrenched was she, overloaded with professorship and businesses, she hadn’t stopped to make such basic changes. This stuff was adulting, and being responsible was no fun.

Whatever. Parvati was being responsible! Tonight, she would finally wipe down every flat surface and counter in her apartment with a soapy towel. It was a cathartic ritual. Any new place she would leave in would need to be hand-scrubbed. Anointed, in a sense. As she acquired the things she needed and started wiping from the counters in the kitchen, her thoughts meandered. So much had happened already at Garreg Mach. She hadn’t yet taken it in.

First, she had been greeted by Catherine Thunderbrand. She flashed into Parvati’s head: Catherine, at the staircase, returning Parvati’s mock bow — _“Ladies first.”_ And then there was Shamir Nevrand.

 _Hmm,_ thought Parvati. How astounding. The very first people she met. The Officer’s Academy truly was full of the best of the best, and even amongst the best, she was sent the _bestest_.

Parvati smiled. She had had a _waiting party_. Wow! There was no one awaiting her the last few times she had moved. Granted, this was partially because she no longer had parents. But she didn’t make this a grave concern; she had always had the company of whomever she was currently dating. How better to showcase to her how _strong_ they were, and how _helpful_ , and how _organized_?

And how better to bask in her lavished attention?

But these thoughts left her searching for something throughout her apartment.

 _No Randolph._ Parvati sighed.

She made quick work of the rest of the kitchen counters and moved on to the dining table. She started to move the bird cage. It rattled horribly as it scraped over the table. Her heart jumped into her throat. She froze, embarrassed, hoping nobody else heard.

They had, of course. So had the parakeets. They squawked and complained about the night interruption. The cage filled with their wing flaps. Parvati shushed them, and this time, lifted the cage, placing it daintily back down on one of the chairs next to the table. Then she started polishing the table.

Well, what else had happened? She’d met the Viceroy, met the Archbishop. Discovered the Agarthan Museum was delayed. Parvati itched her nose, leaving a series of soap suds on her face as she wondered if it was all right to follow up on next steps… Would it be annoying to Seteth? Was it too early for an update? Or a timeline? Or should she take initiative? Present him some builders…? A niggling feeling was building up in her stomach. Would she just be annoying?

Parvati reprimanded herself. _Patience, Parvati,_ she thought. There was no rush. She was going to be here for — years, ideally — when Seteth renewed her contract. If he renewed her contract. She hoped he would renew her contract. This was a silly time to be worrying about that anyway. The school year hadn’t even started yet! But her heart went back to fluttering with anxiety.

Seteth was terrifying. She didn’t know why. He was way more terrifying than any of her former bosses, or professors, or the dean. Or, anybody, really. Professor Hanneman was supposed to be good friends with him. She’d better speak to Hanneman, and verify Seteth was just another human being. She was certain Hanneman would reassure her.

But maybe he would just validate that the Viceroy _was_ intimidating.

Parvati went back to the kitchen and washed her towel. Gray dust clumps and coiled rings of her long white hair, which were accumulating on the floor already, flushed away in the hot water. She returned to the table and crawled underneath, running the towel above her head on the underside, and up and down each of its legs, thinking. Four high-ranking people. Seteth, Catherine, Lady Rhea and Shamir. All of them terrifying. Well…now, about Catherine, Parvati was starting to have mixed feelings. Shamir, on the other hand…

Parvati’s hand drifted up to her neck, leaving a line of soap suds where Shamir’s knife had been, thinking. She wouldn’t mind if she never saw Shamir again.

Parvati wiped the soap suds with her sleeve. _Randolph didn’t like Shamir either. Hmm._

Whatever. And then there was Manuela. A large smile took over Parvati’s face as she clambered out from underneath the table and promptly hit her head.

“Owwww!” she groaned, flapping down onto the ground in unexpected defeat. She mewled. _Well, at least Catherine didn’t see this,_ said a voice in her head. _Or Shamir. Or Seteth. Or Manuela. …Thank the gods!_ She nursed the offended spot on her head, and her dignity, as she continued to make mewling noises in the comfort and privacy of her own apartment.

When she finished licking her wounds, Parvati attended to every inch of every chair, running a new towel up and down cylindrical chair legs and the frame of the chair back, softly humming Manuela’s songs. It was nice to have something her fingers could wrap themselves around. Something solid. Something to hold onto. There wasn’t much she felt she was holding onto right now.

When all the wiping was done, she turned her attention to Hanneman’s books. This bookshelf…she needed to make space. Because books were holy in the culture of Hinduskar, and thus were not to touch the ground, Parvati stacked his books in the corner over a clean towel. Then, Parvati wiped down the bookshelf as far as she could reach without needing a chair. The chair she would move tomorrow. She didn’t want to make any more scraping noises at this time of night. Not after the bird cage. Dimitri and Dedue would have no problem reaching the top shelves though.

Parvati paused and frowned. Where in the world had _that_ thought come from? The Prince of Faerghus, wiping her shelf! She returned to the kitchen, shaking her head. What a bizarre, errant thought to have. Though, when she pictured his bright eyes and today’s willingness to help — bringing back her lesson plans, carrying her up the mountain… Parvati blinked. Something told her he wouldn’t mind wiping down some shelves.

_What a goof._

Now that the cold air had freshened the apartment, it felt good to stand at the sink and let her fingers bask in the hot water as she cleaned the towel again. She kept thinking about the Prince. 

_Bah. Cute kid. Very earnest, and genuine. And oblivious. And enthusiastic._ It seemed Dedue got all of the brains, though. And he watched over Dimitri like a big brother…not just a vassal. She felt a twinge in her heart. It was kind of sweet. If those two were always together, then it meant they were never lonely.

Parvati cut off the tap water. It was the end of sound. There was a bit of a whistle of the wind outside, and the soft sound of one of the birds snoring but…

_No Randolph._

Parvati sighed. There was that soft ache in her heart she was always shoving away. She was always throwing herself into the cerebral — thoughts, reflections, plans, even worries — to keep the gnawing hole in her heart at bay. Even more so now that she had been sensing something she hadn’t yet put into words: that it was growing.

So, how _did_ that happen? How did a child of _royalty_ wind up so easy to get along with? She had been so afraid this whole day… But now, now she could think back to what happened and reassess.

It hadn’t been terrible. He was a pushy little brat, but…but the question remained. How did this child of royalty get along so easily with a commoner like her? She saw in her mind’s eye reading aloud the pamphlet aloud again. He didn’t _act_ like a prince. She’d had a distinct idea of nobles. She’d thought they were all like Duke Aegir. There was a certain protocol, like a dance. Dedue seemed to get it. He understood the protocol. But it seemed Dimitri didn’t. Dimitri _pouted_ at Dedue. And he didn’t always get his way.

“Hmmmmmm,” intoned Parvati aloud. She sighed, wringing water out of the towel and slapping water out for a bit, like her mom used to, before finally putting it to dry along the wall. Prince Dimitri didn’t act like royalty. He acted like a commoner.

She closed the windows again. Time to start unpacking. Time to put things on the walls. She ran Aegir lights all around the living room, annoyed by the puttering nature of the lamps she had lit when she first came in. As her hands rifled through the contents of her suitcase again, her thoughts went back to Aelfric. What happened to him? She knew Catherine said don’t count on him, but…

Parvati looked at what her hands had landed on. It was the elephant-headed god. The golden miniature looked like it had a ruby studded into its crown. It was a small, cute, almost flat piece, with four arms. Not even as long as her pinky. Well, since she found it, she might as well…

She started to unpack all her deities from her trunk, setting the statues and figurines on the table as she wondered where she’d set the shrine. With every god and goddess she placed upon the table, she would touch their feet with her right hand, asking for their blessings. Then, she would pass that hand up to her forehead and run it up the middle part in her hair.

This act immediately brought her calm, every single day. She didn’t know why, but thinking about Aelfric had started making her anxious again. Like she had to worry for him. Not about him. _For_ him. She didn’t even know that weirdo.

 _And for Dedue_ , said a voice in her head. She was worrying for Dedue. Still worrying.

Parvati shoved away that line of thoughts as well. She couldn’t handle thinking of him. Not right now. Too many…thoughts. Too many…emotions. Too many…everything. Maybe some other time. Maybe tomorrow. But not right now. Right now, every time Parvati’s thoughts ever came to him, her heart would jump. It would take her a while to realize she wasn’t worrying for him. She was worrying about him. He was so big. He was so scary. He didn’t smile. He barely said anything.

Did he hate her?

 _No, you idiot. He even laughed at something you said,_ said a voice in her head. The voice of reason.

She couldn’t remember what it was at this point, though, that made him laugh. All that kept coming back to her again and again was:

But — did he hate her???

So now Parvati reached for the elephant-headed god. Ganesh, the God of Trials. Or rather, the God from which to ask for the strength to overcome the trials. She cradled Ganesh in the palm of her right hand and held him close to her heart, silently praying.

In this year, there would be many trials. She was going to need all the help she could get!

* * *

When Dimitri awoke the next morning, it was because of the knocking on his door. This was unusual. The castle attendants knew better than to wake the Prince. Dedue knew better than to wake the Prince. The whole of Fhirdiad, the capitol of Faerghus, knew better than to wake the Prince. The thought was simply outrageous. So when the knocking did not cease, Dimitri turned over in his bed growling, “Not now.”

He had been Actually Sleeping. For Dimitri, Actually Sleeping was a coveted state. It took him hours and days to get there. The journey usually started with staring at his ceiling for forty minutes. Then he would get mad at himself, thinking, he had a very important day tomorrow, and it would be good for him to be rested so he could do well the next day. Then he would start getting even more mad, thinking, if he didn’t perform well the next day, he would wind up back here, lying awake, thinking about what a miserable failure he was the next night too. The fact that he would return to this very same state of self-torture in less than twenty-four hours was unbearable.

This was usually the time he would start to get hungry. But then he would spend half an hour wondering, should he eat something? But if he got up to eat something, wouldn’t that make him more awake again? But if he didn’t eat, what if he just kept being hungry? Would he be unable to sleep?

Hence, insomniac that he was, if his was ever interrupted, he would come out of Actual Sleep in a murderous rage. The citizens of Fhirdiad had heard many a report about walls being punched into the next room. The _Fhirdiad Gazette_ informed Kingdom citizens that the Prince had been moved to the North Tower in an attempt to curb any further damage. The tower had no adjacent rooms to punch holes into. Or hallways. It was just rooms with a staircase spiraling up. Less collateral damage.

The plan didn’t work though, because then came the Flying Dresser Incident. Two weeks later, the _Fhirdiad Gazette_ informed Kingdom citizens that the North Tower was now a No Fly Zone. Ever since the Prince came out onto his balcony and launched his dresser at a noisy pegasus (and its unfortunate rider), it had been deemed a health risk to exist within that air space. And once the Prince disappeared into the North Tower for the night, the _Gazette_ suggested submitted that the whole world become a No Walk Zone, No Talk Zone, No Make Noise Zone, and No Breathe Zone for all living things within Fhirdiad.

There is, of course, very little truth to this, according to the Royal Administration. After all, His Highness had been removed from the North Tower the moment his security detail’s chief’s wife discovered that the trashy tabloid had, for the first time ever, gotten something right: the location of the Prince’s sleeping quarters.

The _Fhirdiad Gazette_ maintained that it reported true facts by then revealing the shambled remains of the Prince’s dresser. It also immediately mass-printed a detailed list of all its contents, including the number of stripes on each of his undergarments.

The dresser was confiscated.

Needless to say, no one awoke the Prince of Faerghus. Not Dedue. Not his attendants. Not the men of his battalions. Not even his parents when he had them. No one.

So it was a bit of a surprise that someone was _still knocking_.

Dimitri pulled the pillow out from under his head, realized he did not recognize this pillow, realized this wasn’t his pillow from Fhirdiad, realized he wasn’t _in_ Fhirdiad — then mashed his face into this hard, new, unnatural bed and wrapped the pillow over his head, pressing them in around his ears. It then occurred to Dimitri that the knocking was coming from outside. Maybe someone hammering something.

 _Whyyyy…_ Dimitri thought to himself.

 _Whhhhyyyyyy…_ Dimitri wept in his head.

“WHHHHYYYYYY!!!” Dimitri screamed in his bed.

The knocking stopped abruptly. Dimitri breathed a sigh of relief. His constricted muscles relaxed and he buried himself deeper into his blue quilt. This dorm room had no curtains, so the quilt was the only thing keeping the blazing light in the windows from landing upon his face. He curled again into the warmth of his bed, filling his blanket cave with his breath to warm it as the cold dawn air was sweeping in —

Why was it so cold in here?

Dimitri opened his bleary eyes, pulled the quilt under his chin and squinted into the light. There was a girl standing at his window. He blinked a few times, slowly. She still had her face pressed against the window, staring. Dimitri was in no condition to be looked at by girls. He came to the conclusion that he must still be dreaming, turned over and put his pillow back over his face.

He was hiding. He told himself that he was trying to go back to sleep, but he was hiding. After a couple moments, he looked back again.

She was still there, a black silhouette against the yellow of the blazing sun, rapping his window. So that’s who it was. Her small, gold hoop earring glinted against her short, dark hair as she was doing something at his window, her tongue sticking out in concentration. She looked into Dimitri’s room, couldn’t see through her own reflection, and brought her face close again. As she did, the golden cuff of a short dreadlock clinked against the window. Then she smiled.

“Oh! He’s awake!” she called over her shoulder to someone below. Then she turned back to Dimitri. “Finally…”

Dimitri blinked. That wasn’t the voice of a girl. Whoever it was, like a ghost, they started retreated backwards from the window. Dimitri popped up in alarm. They were going to fall off! What were they doing?

They didn’t fall off. Dimitri had forgotten that there was a veranda. It was a veranda-like wooden platform that stretched all the way down the full length of the floor, connecting all of the student dorms on the second floor. There was no railing and Dimitri couldn’t fathom why it was there, but person who had been rapping on his window had stepped into the light on it.

It was a student, judging by the uniform. He had his hands on his hips and the smile of a rascal. The thick, dark, kinky hair was offset by the blazing yellow House Leader cape flowing off his left shoulder. It lifted lazily in a light breeze.

Dimitri blinked. This was the Golden Deer House Leader.

That House Leader spoke to him. “Rise and shine, Your Highness! Your public…awaits!” He indicated said imaginary public with a grand wave of his caped arm, then stepped backwards and fell off the ledge.

The Prince sprang out of bed and flew to the window with a strangled yowl, thinking, _Did he just — ? Did he just — ?_

Ah. The student was fine. He had landed in the arms of a girl with two giant, pink pony tails. She must have been incredibly strong, because the House Leader was lounging in her princess carry and _waving back at the Prince_. And standing beside them, ready and braced for anything to come flying out of Dimitri’s room, was Dedue.

Dimitri let out his breath, trying to recover from his minor heart attack. He glared at his vassal and did a hand motion, something that clearly expressed: “What’s _this_ shit?”

Dedue shook his head.

Then the Golden Deer House Leader started calling. “Come on out, Your Princeliness!”

Dimitri heard him surprisingly well. It was almost as if the window was open.

It was. It was ajar. That was how the cold air was coming in. The Golden Deer House Leader had broken into it.

This was, unbeknownst to Dimitri, the beginning of when the Prince would learn what it meant to Fear the Deer.

“Well, don’t just _stand_ there! Let’s get breakfast already!” said the pink-haired girl. “I’m hungry!”

“Come on, Baby Blaiddyd!” said the House Leader. “Let’s get to know each other!”

 _Baby Blaiddyd?_ thought Dimitri, stunned. The Prince was coming to a horrible realization. All this time, he thought he didn’t sleep. Now he was realizing, if the rest of the students were anything like these two…he would’t sleep for the rest of the school year…

And school hadn’t even begun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thank you to my beta readers, Moyou / [@budgie_qm](https://twitter.com/budgie_qm/status/1283719399677943808?s=20) on Twitter, and kiri / [@royoon_](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJQVoKRx/) on TikTok, and my boo! 🥰
> 
> Prepare for something epic — next chapter!


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